Trust
by NuChu
Summary: Some events occur (of the sexy variety) and Johnny is enjoying his thought-freedom while Edgar enjoys some schizo-type paranoia. Definitely NSFW. Chapter 15 is done! Don't like sexy things, don't read the first five chapters!
1. Am I broken?

His breathing got heavier and more frantic as his hands tugged at the back of Edgar's head with need. He hated this. This disgusting feeling that sweltered inside of him, making him beg and need it more. What was happening to him?

"_No use fighting it. Fighting makes the pain worse. Ignoring it makes the need grow_."

Edgar's hands frantically searched the shape of Johnny's body, gently tracing over the bones that were visible in his skinny frame, kissing whatever spot he could find. The usual hatred of touch was fading with every second and Johnny found himself wanting to feel more of Edgar too.

_What I'm doing... is terrible, but with him_

Nny gasped loudly as Edgar's hands brushed against a sensitive nipple, circling around it while kissing his neck.

_it feels... right._

Edgar pushed Nny onto a nearby sofa and forcefully kissed him, making Nny moan with pleasure, gripping his shirt tightly and pulling it towards him.

_"You can't seriously think that he cares about you. All humans are like this; selfish. He's only using you for his own animalistic desires and is making you give into yours!"_

_ No. That's not true!_

Edgar's hands slipped underneath Nny's shirt and pulled it up, reluctantly releasing his lips to pull it over his head.

_"You haven't changed Nny. It's all downhill from here. You should 'Immortalize the Moment'. Suffering is inevitable if your still alive, but if you really care about him, you should kill him too"_

The expression on Nny's face changed and Edgar stopped suddenly.

"Nny...?" He asked softly. "What's wrong? I'm sorry."

_Always apologizing. He's scared of me, so maybe he really is only using me, but for some reason..._

"Johnny, if you don't want this, I understand. I want you to be happy." Edgar raised himself off of Johnny to give him some breathing space, but was pulled back down suddenly. His heart pounded loudly. he wasn't used to Nny's sudden mood swings, but then again, he wasn't entirely used to anything about him really.

"I think..." _"You have to kill him now."_ Johnny hesitated. The voice in his head wouldn't stop. He didn't know what he thought, or what he wanted.

_I don't want this to end. _

"I'm really happy right now." Nny said, and Edgar couldn't help but smile at Johnny's words.

After a few moments of admiring the boy beneath him, he replied.

"I'm so glad."

"You can..." _keep going, please, _"If that's alright..." Johnny whispered quietly, with an unusually nervous feeling. He didn't want to ruin this, not like all the others. He was scared.

"Of coarse," Edgar said calmly.

_"Johnny, you have to do it soon. You're going to hurt him and then he'll hate you forever! He'll never want to see you again!"_

"...aah..." Edgar slowly traced his hand down Johnny's stomach, leaving a trial of hickeys to follow. When he got down to his pants he slowly undid the buckle.

"E-Edgar..." Johnny gasped out. Edgar stopped immediately.

"What is it?" He asked, unwillingly raising his face from Johnny's stomach.

"I.. want to kill you right now... or me... preferably both." Edgar's heart sunk, but he took a moment to think it over first. Johnny's sense of logic wasn't the same as everyone else's, and in this case, he meant the statement to be a compliment of sorts. He spoke, but failed miserably at trying not to sound so scared.

"W-well, why would... I mean... you really shouldn't, but why?"

_He knows. He's just dancing around the topic, but I can't change._

"I... I just don't want to... to hurt you, but I want to stay like this." Johnny managed to say. He looked away from Edgar's face. He didn't want to see his expression. He could feel a weight lift off of him more. Edgar was starting to stand up, taking away the warmth Johnny was feeling.

_"See? You can't have happiness Johnny. The only way to stop this misery is to end it. A knife or a gun. Go over the stars! Be free from these chains."_

_ "_I can't be happy." Johnny whispered.

_ "because you ruin everything. You can't trust anybody. All humans are worthless garbage, killing and using each other to fulfill their own needs. You are no exception."_

"I ruin everything." Edgar looked at Johnny with concern, but didn't dare interrupt his outer thoughts.

_"There's nothing you can do but end it all now, stop trying to change the impossible! You weren't meant for love! Nobody can save you from the pain in your heart! Not even Edgar can save you from y-"_

"E-Edgar."

_"No, wait! HE CAN'T! HE CAN'T-"_

"Edgar, save me."

Edgar leaned towards Johnny's face, barely gliding his nose over the boy's before locking their lips together.

_"NO! STOP!"_

Johnny tried to push him away, but Edgar kept going, more passionately than ever, his tongue reaching every part of Johnny's mouth and gently biting on his lips, making him surrender completely. They both gasped for air when the kiss ended, their faces staying close.

"I'll save you." Edgar softly uttered in Johnny's ear. "Even if it kills me."


	2. What Happened last night part 1

When Edgar woke up his head and entire back were stiff and sore, making him rise up off of the floor a little more slowly than he'd like. It made him feel old.

Wait... the floor? Why exactly was he sleeping on the floor?

He stood up and took a good look around himself. This was definitely his home. He was in his living room at the moment and facing the kitchen, which was probably the smallest part of his house, his back to the back of the couch and the television. Feeling his stomach growl at him, he walked over to the fridge and pulled out some soy milk (because he was really sure that he _might_ be lactose intolerant) and began pulling out various other ingredients; flour, sugar, baking powder, a banana, and a large bowl. He began throwing them all together, half heartedly stirring so he think about what had happened last night.

There was a growing uneasiness in his stomach, but he wasn't sure why. He probably just sat alone, at the bar, doing nothing in particular except for wait for something to happen.

He pondered some more, stirring a little more vigorously as his mind started to wake up.

"_Ok, I was at the bar and now I don't remember anything at all. That could only mean..."_

...that he was drunk as hell and had been doing God knows what yesterday. He was hardly ever drunk. The thought of his thinking being hindered was just...

He could feel his pulse quicken at the realization and his breathing became more audible. What if he did something bad? Did he hurt anyone? Did anyone hurt him?

He stopped stirring suddenly and tried to find any wounds he might have gotten with his hands, jumping over his skin frantically and occasionally poking at an area of flesh that he thought may have been more... bruise-y feeling than usual. The search lasted only a few moments before abruptly bring his hands up to grasp his head, now throbbing and hurting like crazy. Each heartbeat in his brain seemed to make his vision go blurry and the world was lazily rolling around.

"Oh lord..." Edgar murmured quietly. He couldn't tell whether he was having a hangover or if his head was still sore from sleeping on the ground.

He rubbed at his neck gently in attempts to ease away the pain, massaging all the way down to his collarbone where his fingers brushed past something that felt different from the rest of his skin.

Edgar's pulse quickened to the point where it hurt, not helping his current headache. _"Damn these nerves!" _ He cursed to himself.

He began to feel around the area until he came across that spot again, fingers tracing over ever so slight indents around his neck.

"What the...?"

He push a nail down into the grooves and the pain flooded him with memories so quickly that he staggered backwards before sliding down onto the ground.

_Edgar's Memories_

He was still kissing the boy madly, even though his lips were sore and bruised and Johnny's had turned a light purple. His tongue, still full of energy, dived in and out of his mouth, practically fucking Nny's throat with it. The boy only moaned in reply, his sharp nails digging into Edgar's back.

What was happening to him- both of them? Since when had Edgar been so ravenous for sex and since when had Nny been alright with any kind of touch at all? The thoughts diminished as quickly as they had appeared when he realized he couldn't breath and had to break away from their seemingly endless kiss.

Johnny's face was slightly blue. Edgar had almost forgotten that Nny was the kind of person who would keep going until he passed out. The realization excited him for reason and he took a moment to gaze at the boy while he thought some things out, though not really wanting to stop.

_He's probably disgusted with me._ Edgar thought gloomily, but still lusty.

_He's most likely disgusted with himself. _ He caught the maniac's eyes lock onto his own, no longer filled with homicidal rage, but with exhaustion and longing that he couldn't express in words. It was a sensation entirely new to the boy.

"Ah..!" Johnny gasped out as Edgar unconsciously rubbed a hand at the boy's groin.

"Uhn... Edgar..." He breathed out heavily, half shut eyes fluttering crazily and his cheeks flushed.

_Blushing. He's blushing! _Edgar mused. _Because of me he's blushing!_

Edgar began to rub a little harder, making Nny's back arch as he pulled his hips towards the friction, greedily taking in as much pleasure as he could.

"Ah! Edgar... please...s..stop..." The lanky boy moaned out helplessly. The burning between his legs causing him to shamelessly give into his desires made him feel scared, but he clung on tighter to Edgar, who gave him a gentle kiss in the middle of his chest.

_His chest? I think I took his shirt off..._

Edgar continued to massage Nny's crotch, ignoring his pleas. Edgar was losing himself, getting the drunken sensation of not being able to think like he usually would, but god, if he hadn't always wanted this!

"Edgar... pleease... Ah!" Nny cried out suddenly when Edgar squeezed him roughly. He could feel the boy about to come and built up the rhythm of his strokes, adding a hard squeeze here and there. Johnny was soon moaning nonstop, begging for him to go faster, the shame suddenly gone from his mind along with all the voices.

"Ah... oh fuck!... Edgar... ung... please..." Tears were streaming from the boy's face from the intense feelings he was experiencing, the buildup in his groin now almost overflowing. Edgar smiled at how Nny could have an orgasm just from being touch through his pants and stopped just before he came.

Johnny looked up at him, tired and confused. "What...what are you doing?" He asked, panting.

Edgar lowered himself down so that his mouth hovered right beside Nny's ear.

"What do you want me to do?" He whispered, unusually seductively.

As Nny tried to clear his head to think about his answer, the only conclusion that he could come to was that the voices had gone away, and that he wanted Edgar to keep touching and kissing him, hold him tight and fix him, but JUST Edgar. He wasn't sure why. Nobody else seemed good enough.

[to be continued]


	3. What Happened last night part 2

Johnny found that, without the Doughboys or even Nail Bunny buzzing around his brain telling him what to do, he was more empowered and energetic, free from all previous binds that made him miserable and free to think his own thoughts, the touch he got from Edgar made those "other" noises disappear in an instant. Suddenly he knew what he wanted and wasn't willing to deprive himself of it. When had he ever gone out of his way to be unhappy?

"What do you want me to do?" Those enticing words echoed in Johnny's ears tormentingly. He didn't want him to ask at all. Why couldn't he just finish up and get this over with? If he asked, in that soft and sweet way that Edgar always did, he would never want him to leave again.

Edgar held his breath the entire time that Johnny took to reply. It was as though his entire being depended on this answer, but he only wanted one. Anything less and he would be destroyed. Life gone. He didn't have anything else; he didn't want anything else.

The sickly thin boy beneath him: the shadow of the world, was his brightest light. Nny gave him an odd sense of hope. A hope that his life could be more than just a cameo in the grand scheme of things, and have an ultimately greater purpose...

...and maybe, it wasn't just that. He loved how smart Johnny was. How he could hold a decent conversation with him and how Johnny actually _felt_ and _thought_ about things. His emotion was so real and his mind was so pure, too pure it must have driven him insane being with everyone else. Nny was so very important and his insanity was so raw and attractive.

He caught Johnny's eyes suddenly upon his own, glowing with a spontaneous, fiery power. In seconds the boy had lunged forward, pushing against Edgar's chest and propelling him towards the other end of the couch, making his head smack off of the armrest.

He look up in a daze and briefly wondered what was happening. Nny's new disposition was good progress in terms of his acceptance with his new found "control" and was making Edgar unbelievably hot. He could feel his cheeks turn pink from seeing the face of the person who had first caught his attention so many months ago staring down intently at him. The "crazy man" really did have so much more than just that to his name.

When Johnny had quickly ripped his shirt off of, Edgar steadily got to work on the boy's pants, unzipping them with an unusual zeal, forcing his movements to be faster, to get this preparation over with.

Johnny went twice as quickly as Edgar, forcefully pulling his clothes off and abandoning them wherever, the maddening hunger driving his fears forward. There was no way Edgar would ever leave him, was there?

"_Oh, but he will, boy. Just you wait. They all do eventually."_

Johnny pulled Edgar by his hair and forced their lips together, using both hands to bring them as close as possible and threading his fingers through Edgar's soft hair, emitting a slight whimper from the other. The savage treatment was exciting and wonderfully painful, as though Edgar was really experiencing the moment rather than just seeing it from behind a mirror. A cloudy memory of Johnny telling him something along those lines once sailed over his mind until he felt a harsh bite on his lower lip.

"Mm... Ah!" Edgar couldn't help but cry out, feeling the warm sensation travel down his mouth and gliding over his skin like oil.

He could feel a pair of hands tilting his head around. He opened his eyes and saw Johnny's ravenous expression looking down at him.

"Did that hurt?" He asked, with little concern in his voice. Edgar took a moment to breath before nodding his head and uttering out,

"Yeah, just a bit..." It was then that he noticed, and _really_ noticed, that the boy was naked. On top of him. Naked. And Edgar only had his boxers on.

The bony frame made him seem so real compared to the cookie-cutter replicas that everyone else seemed to be. A certain crazed edge to his hair and even his eyes seemed to capture their own separate essence, all as if to accentuate his immortality to human tarnishing. Yes, he was very special.

"Good." Johnny concluded with a hint of malevolence in his voice, making Edgar's skin electrify all the way down to his finger tips, getting his nerves ready for any touch.

* * *

Author notes:  
Alright, so what do you guys think? Do you like Edgar on top better than Johnny or what?  
(I've got a good plot developing in my head too. I wanna tell you what it is now, but that would ruin this cleverly executed cliffhanger, wouldn't it?)  
Also, sorry it's so short. Super sick today and nearly passed out while writing it -_-


	4. What Happened last night part 3

"Ah! W-why are you... ah... being so..." Edgar arched his back slightly and cried out when Johnny broke through the skin around his collar bone, sharp teeth still searching for more. The boy only grinned while Edgar twitched underneath him and Nny decided to trace his nails harshly around the man's chest while he thought this through.

"_Almost time to end this, don't you agree, Nny?"_

Damn. The voices were still there. Seriously, what the fuck! Why wasn't this working? It worked when they kissed, so why weren't the voices gone now? Shit! It was that damned feeling: The way he knew Edgar craved him more than a hobo longs for his crack, and that warmth that told him that he was important in someone's heart even though he was a hideous killer bent on some sort of bi-polar mood swings! Edgar must really be an angel to see past all of that, or maybe he just wasn't serious. This hadn't been the first time someone had tried to take advantage of the skinny boy.

"Edgar." He said softly, rubbing around Edgar's ribs soothingly and looking down with distant eyes. Edgar tried to stare back into the homicidal boy's own, but couldn't find any kind of clue to what was troubling him.

"What is it?" He asked sincerely. At this point he was willing to do anything for the boy and eagerly awaited his command. He sat up a bit more against the arm rest of the couch and gently put his hands over Johnny's shoulders.

"You're perfect you know." He whispered to the sullen boy reassuringly. Johnny's eyes picked up and his heart beat so fast that he vaguely remembered what it was like to feel such a rush without murdering or maiming people. _No, this guy is safe._ Nny thought to himself. He smiled at the realization of HIS own thoughts and already knew what he needed to do.

"Edgar, I want to..."

[to be continued]

Author's Notes:

Ahhhhg! Ok, ok, sorry, but I don't know how to continue this! I had so many ideas, but they all kind of smooshed together and destroyed themselves, and now the big question is, "If they have smexy-fun times, who's on top!"

...and believe me, if you have any suggestions, it will be the SMEXIEST FUN OF ALL TIEMZ!

Ahem... that is all.

(And the next chapter will be so much longer, you won't even believe it!)


	5. What Happened last night part 4

He could feel his heartbeat flutter at the words, the gentle, caring words that he couldn't possibly imagine Johnny uttering from his self reserved lips, contrasting the now dark enclosure of the room. It was probably somewhere around 9:00 p.m. although the the thought remained only for a split second when Nny's voice broke through.

"... I need you to... ugh!" Johnny gripped at his hair and scrunched his face up in pain (or frustration; Edgar couldn't tell). He shifted uncomfortably on Edgar's lap, creating a glorious amount of friction between the two and Edgar had to stifle a loud moan, feeling that this was an inappropriate time to do so. Nny, on the other hand, gasped loudly and let his hands fall back down to his sides. Whatever was bothering him clearly seemed to have gone away.

"The voices..." Johnny mumbled just barely audibly. He stole a quick glance at Edgar from the corner of his eye and then stared off into the kitchen area, deep in thought. Edgar stayed as still as he could, ever so slightly afraid that perhaps his tastes weren't exactly the _safest_ and hoping for the love of GOD that Johnny would move some more. Not like he could help himself, really, I mean, Johnny _was_ naked and he only had his _boxers on_. Still, he felt an unusual vibe coming from the younger of the two and was concerned for both of their well being.

Edgar had to take this time to think about some things himself (now that he was slightly more sober), because what he was feeling right now didn't seem logical to the situation. Sure, Johnny could kill him at any moment so of coarse he felt a bit freaked out, but he was also madly in love with him and filled with lust just from thinking about how far he was being allowed to go with the boy, but there was an odd amount of suspicion in his head too. He couldn't quite place why, yet, it kept him peeking towards the window every now and then. The curtains were closed; maybe he was just being paranoid, or still a little drunk?

His head suddenly began to spin as his groin was getting hot from the amount of attention it was getting and he could hardly register what was happening. Johnny had begun grinding up on him, thrusting his hips violently against Edgar's while trying to free him of his boxers. Edgar had eagerly helped him in the task and shortly after it was flesh on flesh, two hard members stealing pleasure from pure skin. Nny was moaning the whole time through, unable to control these new feelings and sensations while Edgar enhanced them by adding his own thrusts into the rhythm.

Edgar could feel the lithe body begin to tense up and he quickly forced it down onto the couch before allowing Johnny to release.

"Ah... wha... What the fuck are you doing?" Johnny asked out of breath, completely shadowing the fact that he was angry. The serious face Nny got from Edgar startled him. Since when did this man have a back bone?

"First, tell me what the hell happened a few moments ago. Tell me what's wrong." Nny's heart was jumping around in his chest like mad and he wasn't sure why, but he didn't like being forced to say or do anything he didn't want, so he struggled to get free. Edgar firmly held the boy by his wrists above his head. He was much stronger than the skinny adolescent beneath him and felt guilt at the shivers of delight the boy's squirming had caused, but he had priorities; this wasn't going to be one-sided.

"I-I don't know..." Nny stuttered out, still slightly out of breath and desperately needing more of Edgar's touch.

"It's just... I don't feel so..." The dark homicidal eyes stared intimately into the hazel ones above him, pouring out the most honest answer he could give. He was far from dignity now, not that it had ever been important in the first place.

Edgar listen attentively, staring back into ebony eyes with adoration, soaking in the moment and hoping that Johnny hadn't planned for this to be a one time fling, wanting to hold him close and cherish him for as long as he could. Edgar pushed the distracting thoughts as far back as they would go, for now.

"...the voices go away when we do..." Johnny's face began to get hot and he shifted uncomfortably underneath Edgar at the feeling, although he couldn't move much with his hands pinned above his head.

"...those _things_." He continued.

"I don't know why, but... it just seems right."

Edgar couldn't believe his ears! How many people had ever gotten this close to Johnny before and had ever even heard this kind of confession (or even been close to hearing one)? A large grin smoothed over the man's face and he felt so light it seemed like he was high and Edgar was so overrun with emotion and joy, yet he somehow managed to hold his composure.

"I'm so glad." Was all he managed to say. He bent down to sweetly kiss the boy's forehead but stopped abruptly when Johnny loudly whined when their members touched for a fleeting moment.

"Ah! Please... Edgar..." Johnny looked up at him desperately, face completely pink.

"What do you need me to do?" Edgar asked, not wanting to go farther than he should, but still far to aroused to prevent himself from lightly grinding on the boy more.

Johnny's loud gasps filled the room and he had to squint his eyes in attempts to control his moans. After one hard movement, he couldn't hold back a cry.

"Christ, Edgar, just fuck me!" The words fumbling desperately out of Johnny's lips.

Edgar needed no further argument. The sudden outburst and steamy words couldn't have convinced him more and he wanted to do this as sweetly as possible (or, at least as sweetly as he could remember being possible).

He gently stroked Nny's face with the back of his hand and brought his fingers to the boy's mouth, but they were slowly pushed aside by a bony hand.

"No. I need to feel this, every sensation and every push, to lose the noise. Don't make it soft. Do it hard so I know it's real, otherwise I might just wake up." Johnny's last sentence was seductively commanding and Edgar felt no need to argue, but did harbor a bit of concern for the younger of the two, although, after a long look into lust filled eyes he couldn't take it much longer.

"Remember," Nny said softly, but dangerously. "Make it hurt."

With one rough thrust Edgar had plunged deep inside of Johnny, making the boy scream out in pain and masochistically derived pleasure and, despite how the feeling made Edgar see stars, he hesitated before continuing; deep pants and moans from Nny motivated him to keep moving.

Edgar thrust in slowly, pulling out lightly before gently pressing back into Nny's entrance, grunting and heavily breathing with each push. Johnny moaned and whimpered into each thrust and wrapped his legs around Edgar's waist to encourage him to go faster, but the man kept his pace.

"Ah!... oh... fuck, Edgar... harder... please." Johnny managed to utter out between his moans.

As the pace increased Johnny began rocking his hips with Edgar's movement to force him in deeper, feeling Edgar's cock pull against his insides with each motion and making him feel full. The pain from the plunge was fading too quickly for his liking.

"Nng... Edga- AH~!" Johnny screamed out loud when the tip of Edgar's head penetrated his prostate and a euphoria of pleasure he had never imagined electrified within him at an alarming speed.

"OH FUCK, HARDER! AHH!" Soon Edgar was pounding into Johnny with all his might, taking all of his will power not to come inside of him until he was satisfied, but the boy was still riding out, screaming in pleasure each time Edgar hit that spot in him.

Wanting to make the other come soon, Edgar gave Nny the pain he so desperately desired (watered down to Edgar's preference, of coarse). He leaned down while still pounding into Johnny and grabbed the dark haired boy by his shoulders, being sure to dig his nails deep into his skin.

The boy wailed out in pleasure and wrapped his arms around Edgar's neck and bit down on his collarbone to muffle the noise.

Edgar's head began to spin and he knew it was only a matter of time for him, but he wasn't sure how he could finish this quickly. Without thinking, Edgar grabbed Nny's hair roughly while dragging his other nails across the boy's back, drawing blood, feeling the body violently tremble in indulgence.

"Come for me." He whispered surprisingly promiscuous sounding, holding Nny's face close to his own.

Johnny cried out, feeling his body buck and twitch while he released himself over his own chest. Edgar followed shortly after when Nny's body tensed around his throbbing member and he released himself deep within the boy, receiving a satisfied, silent yelp from him as he felt his insides being filled with the warm fluid. Everything was so warm as they passed out together on the couch, one with voices cleared from his head and the other with love filled in his heart.

* * *

** Author's notes.**  
** Yay! It's finally done!**  
** Sorry it's not quite as good as the other ones, written at around 3:00 am-ish and had to force myself to finish it. **  
**Damn writer's block, but it's all good now!**


	6. Ruby Red Shoes

...but that had seemed like forever ago.

It didn't even add up. Edgar was dizzy and flustered and so many indescribable emotions all at once that it made his stomach feel ill just trying to categorize them all, so he stayed on his kitchen floor where the cold marble could sooth his riled state. It wasn't very much help that his kitchen was relatively small and made him feel trapped in with his thoughts. He wasn't claustrophobic, but he was beginning to think that maybe he was developing it, even if it was only psychosomatic.

He traced the bite mark along his collarbone, sending shivers up his spine at last night's reminder, making him so excited and fearful over what would happen now. Would things change? He felt like a little kid talking about his, sure to be fantastic, future; getting wonderfully giddy and slightly hyper at the thought, but the hint of doubt in his mind also made him want to think that it was all just a glorious dream and that things would be as they always have been and he wouldn't have to risk anything: That nothing would change and no one would leave or be angry.

Edgar's stomach knotted up and forced him to crunch over. He convinced himself that it was only because he was hungry.

"Of coarse I'm hungry." Edgar forced himself to smile at his own statement which he uttered out dryly.

"Hungry, hungry Edgar." The words flopped out of his mouth unconsciously, as if saying it enough times would make it true. He was immediately reminded of the Wizard of Oz when Dorothy sang out, "There's no place like home." three times.

Edgar really hated the movie, mostly because Dorothy seemed a little snobbier than she should be and that the characters (not just the scarecrow) were all far too underdeveloped on the "intellect" portion of their personalities. It was more of a mind-numbingly boring musical about candy, witches, and happy stupid people. Dorothy didn't even have the mind to see if her magic boots could do anything magical the first moment she got them. It would have saved her a lot of trouble.

Suddenly, to Edgar's surprise, his stomach gave out a tiny roar in demand for food. Edgar couldn't help but chuckle at the timing. He patted his stomach lightly and reassured himself that he had already made...

Wait, what was he making?

He glanced over at the bowl on the counter as he pulled himself to his feet, peering over the rim suspiciously. A strange looking goop resided within the curvature of the neon green plastic bowl. He dipped his index finger in it quickly before popping it into his mouth. The nostalgically delicious flavor flooded his senses as the substance was plunged across his tongue, eagerly devouring as much as it could get by swirling around the digit.

"Mmm... pancakes." He moaned happily. He was salivating from his new found hunger and almost immediately plopped another mix covered finger into his mouth, repeating the action several times.

Edgar usual always loved the taste of the dough or mix better than the finished product. He found that after heating something up it loses a certain raw edge to the flavor of the food that he craved. This was especially true with cookies, he noted, grinning to himself in his cheery mood.

After he finally convinced himself to start _cooking_, Edgar had turned on the stove and put a small amount of oil onto his no-longer-non-stick pan. The pancake mix sizzled pleasantly as it spread over the heated surface and Edgar spent the rest of his energy focusing on making the perfect pancake. Not too burnt, but not too gooey.

He focused on each noise the pancake made while it cooked. The sounds of cooking and smell of a child's breakfast filled the air, sinking Edgar in a wonderful feeling of bliss. He wished every place in the world could be as nice as this: quiet, warm, peaceful, welcoming, and smell like pancakes. It would be perfect.

"Hm hm hm hm hm hm hmmm~ " Edgar hummed to the tune of "We're off to see the Wizard of Oz" out loud. I guess it's not so bad if you're in a stupid happy mood and he was definitely happy. No worries. It's all good.

He swallowed his false sense security when he heard a rustle from behind him break through the noise of sizzling pancakes.

"Unng..." Edgar's eyes popped open and he felt himself go completely tense, holding his breath and staying as still as possible, feeling as if he was invisible as long as he didn't move.

_Nothing is wrong. Just hearing things. _He tried to convince himself, but when the rustling of blankets became more violent it was nearly impossible to deny.

Johnny is still here.

The world stayed silent for a long while, an unbearably long while, and it killed Edgar with each passing moment. He expected, and almost _wanted_, for Johnny to get up and hit him or say something to him and then run out of his apartment in disgust, but he still clung on to the illusion that he held a special place in the boy's heart. For now, he waited in cruel silence. He could almost feel Johnny building tension from behind him and Edgar began to feel a little unsafe.

_Right now would be the perfect time for him to kill me._

Edgar's attention was at full tilt when he heard Nny sniffling behind him, still not saying anything. His breaths were ragged and unsteady, some being drastically longer than the others and - _dear lord I made him cry!_

That was it! He was a monster for taking advantage of Johnny when he was so vulnerable and he probably didn't even want this and JESUS CHRIST was he even gay?

Edgar could feel his own conscience pushing out tears from his eyes and he whipped around to face Johnny and tell him that he was sorry and that he would understand if they never talked to each other again, but Johnny was the first of the two to say anything. He sniffled some more and peered over the back of the couch to look at Edgar, who realized that Johnny didn't look upset at all, but merely said, "Whatever you're cooking, it smells delicious!"

Edgar just blinked back at him a couple of times, trying to see if the boy was joking or not, but he looked serious. Well, not serious, but happy... pleased- Christ, no. He was content. Not pleased. Edgar mentally slapped himself for thinking that while Johnny just gave him a charming little grin as he slung his arms over the back of the maroon couch.

"I'm not entirely pleased that I fell asleep." Johnny continued, and for some reason Edgar could feel some sort of blame being put on him.

"...but, I think I could let it go if you gave some of those... waffles?" The boy motioned towards the stove and it took Edgar awhile to comprehend what was happening. He stayed still for a moment, staring at the now awakened Johnny, before finally kicking himself back into the real world.

"Um... They're a-actually pancakes." Edgar said sheepishly, looking down a little bit.

"Oh."

Edgar glanced upward and felt slightly heartbroken to see that Johnny seemed disappointed at the lack of waffles. Were they his favourite? He would have probably been so happy if Edgar had just made waffles and it would be the perfect time to re-confess himself to the boy. Everything would be wonderful and Johnny would be overjoyed with his new waffle-making partner and... Ugh, no more imagining impossible scenarios. But if he survived today, he was definitely buying a waffle maker. It was settled.

"Pancakes are fine." Johnny continued with a little less energy in his voice.

_Damn pancakes._ Edgar murmured in his head. _Ruined the moment._

"Okay. I hope you don't mind too much."

Edgar winced slightly after a few moments of not getting a response and returned to attending to the pancakes. He had to throw one out because it had burnt while he was staring at Johnny, feeling a pang of guilt as he tossed it in the compost. He could never throw food away without thinking about starving children. It depressed him too much.

His thoughts were distracted when he heard Johnny stir a bit more on the sofa and suddenly a string of guitars filled the room. The sound was so sudden that Edgar had missed the first line of the song, but he already had a good feel for the beat. Where was it coming from?

"Don't mind me." Johnny said, as if reading his mind. "Just my iPod."

Edgar vaguely wondered how Johnny figured that playing music randomly at a moment like this was appropriate and continued to flip the pancakes, but he could feel Johnny observing him from his post on the couch before the words suddenly seemed significant.

_"I take back the secret, I want you to know"_

Edgar peered over his shoulder at Johnny, who remained as he was, and took note of what he was doing. He was certainly observing Edgar, and not just his method of pancake cooking. He was looking for something else... a reaction? Edgar kept cooking, trying to ignore the suspicious feeling in his gut and focus on the task at hand.

"Are you scared of me, Edgar?" Edgar flinched and almost dropped a pancake he was transferring over to a plate.

_"Bright lights and dark screens won't save the last scene"_

"W-why would you ask something like that?" Edgar's heart fluttered faster than usual. He wasn't scared.

_"Maybe next time I see you won't be in my dreams"_

Johnny stared at him, as if trying to open up his brain and have a peek inside, and for a moment, it felt like he really was. The blunt analyzing feature his eyes possessed had taken a scalpel right through Edgar.

"No reason." The monotony of his voice irked the older man, but he said nothing, instead he brought the pancakes over to Johnny and took a seat on the chair to the left of him. The two ate without saying another word, still silently looking at the other.

_"I wish that I had a chance to get to know you."_

"Edgar..."

"Um... yes?" Edgar felt the pancakes he had just eaten turn into rocks.

"What the hell was last night about?" Wow. No subtlety there. Just straight to the point. And honestly, Edgar didn't know what to say, or if he should even say anything at all. He thought he explained what he needed to last night, or did the situation make his words less believable? If he said anything to make Johnny feel awkward, he wouldn't want to be near Edgar ever again.

'I'm in love with you' just screamed out "desperate" and multiple other synonyms and unpleasantries. What to say...

_"Everything turned red the first time I saw you."_

"Do you remember the first time we met?" Edgar began softly. Johnny's eyes widened with interest and he nodded his head slowly.

"I was going to kill you." He said, waiting for Edgar to continue.

_"Full of affection to get your attention"_

"Well, yes... that's true, but..." _Don't go down this road Edgar, you know how dangerous what you're saying could be. Don't ruin it. _

"...we started talking about, well, life, in general and it was great. You told me about your views on the world and, as dark as they were, I found myself en captivated by you articulation and intellect."

He was definitely running his mouth now. Not nearly thinking about what he was saying as much as he should be, but he kept going.

"I remember telling you that some people were worth all the hurt and pain and you thought that I could be right. Before I know it, I _wanted_ to keep talking to you."

_Ah, well. It was nice knowing you._ Edgar shifted in his chair uncomfortably and pushed his glasses up his face a bit more. Johnny looked less than impressed with his answer.

_"You read me your lines then I gave you this song"_

Johnny's expression was the one that Edgar had been dreading; the sudden change in mood was evident and he couldn't fully comprehend the reasoning for the anger that filled the boy's eyes now, but Edgar couldn't help but feel a little angry himself that Johnny didn't seem to be getting the message.

_"You messed up this one, I better move on"_

"Listen!" Edgar said, yelling suddenly.

_"When it seems like we're heading in our separate ways"_

Red had filled the man's cheeks as he forced himself to continue speaking.

"I've never had anything interesting in my life happen! I had a regular family who all died in a car crash, went to a normal school and otherwise lived a normal life. I never felt anything more than the monotony of just _being_ up until I met you! If you believe in fate or whatever, that's fine, but I figured that my entire life was created just so I could meet you!"

He calmed down when the clashingly cheerful song buzzed back into the background of his mind, along with Johnny's less angry and more pleased face. Yes, he did look pleased with himself.

_"I wish that I had a chance to get to know you"_

"So, you're purpose in life was to meet me?" The boy asked, almost mockingly.

Edgar could feel his face burning up, but he replied, feeling that the mood was shifting for the better.

"Essentially. I haven't been able to do anything significant other than when I met you." He let out a quiet sigh.

"Everything I've tried to do, I could spend hours on, but it would only turn out average. Not even note worthy. You're the only person that seemed to acknowledge my presence, no, my _existence_. You're the only person I've actually enjoyed being with."

_"Everything turned red the first time I saw you"_

Edgar sighed even louder, mostly because everything he said had been completely true which made him upset. How many years did he spend wasting away, only to find that his place was here?

Johnny seemed to be considering what Edgar was saying and nodded his head as if in agreement.

"Those pancakes were amazing." He said suddenly, smiling at Edgar, who couldn't help but smile back.

"That's definitely a first." He replied, laughing at the random change in topic.

"No surprise there." Johnny laughed back. Edgar just looked at him quizzically.

"I mean, after all, you're purpose is to be with me." Edgar was flashed a devious looking smirk, as though Johnny was trying to intimidate him, but ended up choking on his own giggles and soon they both ended up bursting in laughter afterwards.

_I guess it wasn't such a random thing to say after all._

"To make you happy, you mean?" Edgar said through his laughter.

"You better!" Johnny tried to force out through his gasps. They both clenched at their sides in pain, but kept laughing anyways. Their pain just made it funnier, seeing each other scrunch up with cramps or have tears streaming from their faces. The fact that there was nothing _that _ funny to begin with just made it more amusing and they kept on laughing until they literally exhausted themselves from the action.

As he glanced over at the big smile that covered Johnny's face while he lay sprawled over the couch, Edgar finally understood why Dorothy had kept the shoes on her feet without even bothering to try them out through the whole movie. The best part about having magic red shoes is the journey that they take you on and the emotions they make you feel. Even the hurt is worth it in the end. Hadn't he told Johnny that?

_"Everything turned, everything turned red the first time I saw you"_

* * *

Meanwhile, the angst ridden adolescent stared through the windows of the cozy apartment window from atop an old tree, hatred glaring through his eyes as he stared through the binoculars. His dark striped shirt fell loosely across his thin body and his black hair contrasted his pale skin. Normally, he took immense joy in watching his idol and inspiration, but today, it felt like his heart was going claw it's way out of his chest and start tearing shit apart! That man was so dead... Who did he think he was, taking Nny away from him? Why did Nny think he was so special? He had done everything to be just like his idol and he worshipped the ground that Nny fucking spat on! Whatever Nny did, so did he. Whatever Nny wore, so did he. Whatever Nny had...

So did he.

* * *

Sooo, I'm back!  
Sorry it took so long to write this, but I've been getting crazy sick (blood tests and everything)  
but I'm all good now. Just wanted to say,  
EVERYONE'S FAVOURITE HOMICIDAL RAPIST! If you don't know who it is...  
N008  
Other than that, I will definitely try so hard to post, it will scare you; the posting will!

By the way, the song is Everything Turned Red by Useless I.D  
.com/watch?v=aP4L7pq8x4Q  
I looked it up specifically for the chapter... OTL  
it took an hour to find... ENJOY IT OR SUFFER! 


	7. It hurts like I wanna kill you

The rain was his best friend right now, hiding his disclosed the tears from the world. Shit! How could he do this to him? He knew! He knew how he felt and yet, fuck!

Jimmy clenched his fist to his sides as he walked through puddles in the street, rain like machine gun fire against the pavement. The once light and baggy t-shirt now hung heavily and stuck to his tiny frame. His pants and boots were thoroughly drenched and it took more effort than it should have just to walk, but it paled in comparison to the weight of hurt around his heart.

He smiled wearily and sniffled, wiping away some tears, only to have them replaced by droplets of rain streaming from the sky.

"Shit," he said, trying to laugh. "The weight of hurt around my heart? Sounds good." He was definitely going to write that one down, turn it into a dark and soulful poem and then when he and Johnny were together they could write some more and they would both understand. Understand that this was just some horrible mistake and that Johnny was just waiting for the right moment to get rid of _him_. That guy. Edgar Vargaz. Bastard. Oh, Jimmy knew all about him, ever since he started showing up around Johnny he just had to do some research on Mr. Goody Goody, and he had more than enough information on the faggot than he needed.

Jimmy knew that Edgar got some sort of hard on from listening to the priest man talk every Sunday, probably got fondled by one as a kid. He was academically superior in class, mostly in science and english, but his teachers noted him as being "socially awkward" and exceptionally friendly and helpful to all of the students and teachers. Edgar had no known relatives or good friends, not even any notable accomplishments except for keeping his house tidy as fuck! Jimmy snuck into his apartment a couple of times, via tree and window, and shit!- there wasn't even any dust _behind_ his bookcase (which was filled with nothing but psychology crap and one romance novel). The man clearly didn't go out much, and with his faggoty personality, it was no surprise. He probably got the crap kicked out of him as a kid, but because he was too flamingly gay, not because he was misunderstood and brilliant. Not like Jimmy and Johnny. No, he wasn't like them at all.

About a year ago, Johnny had been searching for another soulless waste of human life to beautify with his artistic ability, to punish in the name of every asshole who ever kicked him down! The very thing that made Jimmy swoon. He had been hiding in a bush at the park that Nny had murmured about going to earlier that night during one of his wonderful rants. It was about 9:00 p.m. and Edgar was sitting alone on one of the swings, looking... well. Stupid. He just stared at his shoes and lightly pushed at the ground with his feet. He didn't even look sad, not happy either. Just neutral, occasionally pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, even if he didn't really need to. From his position, Jimmy smiled, knowing that the shit didn't stand a chance against Nny and, just as he had anticipated, the boy had come into the scene, stealthy as a cat, and struck the unknowing Edgar hard over the head with a thick branch.

He had followed the two back to Johnny's house, but he stayed outside. He didn't want to interrupt the artistic process, but it killed him because he wanted to see _so very badly_ at what was happening. He was getting butterflies just from thinking about it.

He waited. He waited. He waited for TWO GODDAMN HOURS and nothing happened! No screams, no cries for mercy, nothing! Not even any blood splattered on the windows! It lacked the raw hatred and angst that he was looking for, so Jimmy just huffed in the cold, dark air, his breath catching frost in the wind, feeling more upset with each passing moment. He was losing his mind just thinking about what may have happened! Did Johnny kill him in one of his lower floors? No, Jimmy was always able to hear them scream, even then. Maybe he just did it while he was unconscious? -but Nny always murdered them when they were awake, to make sure they _understood_ their lesson, and he did it with brutal honesty, with his words and the knife, making it impossible to _not_ hear them cry out in pain.

Then was his idol going soft? Did he kill Edgar quickly and quietly, no mess and no message? Jimmy's heart raced with paranoia. No, not him! Johnny was too perfect! He can't be going soft, he's gotta keep the flame of darkness strong, for both of them! What would happen if Johnny stopped killing people, stopped doing what he did best, what made them _both_ so happy? It was decided then, that Jimmy would take it upon himself to re-inspire Johnny to get back to having more _fun_ with his art rather than letting the noise get to him so much. It hurt Mmy just to imagine his person of worship having to suffer like that, paying more attention than he needed to when the trash he disposes of starts to squeal.

He took a few moments exciting himself over his plan, getting giddy and determined and flustered all over, but his very soul sunk when Johnny's front door opened. That same man, that same STUPID, NEUTRAL, GLASSES FACED MAN WAS WALKING OUT OF _HIS_ JOHNNY'S HOUSE UNHARMED! He looked a little more than spooked and quickly walked out the house's perimeter, forcing himself not to sprint, which was evident in his tiny body twitches. He seemed disoriented because of his wobbly and shaking movements, and there were red gashes and bruises around his wrists, neck, and arms.

"So you _were_ tied up, you stupid fuck." Jimmy silently growled at Edgar, who was still unaware that he was being followed. This was too much. How the hell did this happen! Why is the easiest possible target getting away from Johnny's beautiful grasp? He must be like that horrible girl, Devi, who somehow beat Nny up and escaped! Although, the little fag didn't look like he had it in him.

Time to see if drama club was a complete waste of time. (Which it was. Of coarse.)

He pulled the hood of the black sweater he was wearing all the way over his head so that it covered his eyes and face. He hunched his back slightly and assumed his role, sprinting over to Edgar with an awkward limp.

Edgar had noticed him and looked rather frightened, most likely contemplating on whether or not he should just book it out of there, but to Jimmy's luck, he stayed. He ran up closer to the nervous looking man and desperately grasped on to the collar of his shirt and began to tremble violently.

"Dear Lord! W-What do you want!" Edgar had yelled out helplessly, raisin his hands up so that he didn't touch Jimmy. Jimmy just pulled himself closer to his face, only his lip piercing and chin visible to Edgar.

"How?" Jimmy said with a forced croaky voice. "How did you escape? Tell me everything. Everything that happened!" Jimmy mentally winced when his voice cracked. Getting too carried away.

Edgar calmed down some, apparently relieved that someone else knew about this, but his eyes were still swollen and frightened from suddenly being approached by a stranger so directly, especially one who wore a dark hood to cover their face.

"Well, I don't know how I got there," he said shakily. "but when I woke up, he said he needed my b-blood." Jimmy just nodded vigorously with impatience. He already knew this part.

"I started talking to him," he continued, a lot calmer than before. Maybe that's not right. Less emotion than before which made Jimmy loosen his grip on the man's shirt, his lips uncurled from their snarl and frowned in inquiry.

"I don't really remember what, I think it was about human nature or something..." Edgar's voice picked up a bit and he had a sheepish smile forming.

Oh, so they had a conversation.

Jimmy felt his arms go numb.

"It was actually pretty decent, I mean, he's a smart guy, despite his insanity. I guess he considers me a friend which makes me a little nervous, but I mean, if it got me out... Hey do you think you could..."

He didn't catch that last part.

Jimmy felt like he was going to be sick. His heartbeat thumped oppressively inside his head and blocked most of what Edgar was saying.

_Thump. Thump._

_Considers me a friend._

_Thump Thump Thump._

_A friend._

_ThumThumpThump._

_A FRIEND._

_..._

Why?

"It's a little strange..." Edgar chuckled slightly. "If he wasn't a deranged killer, I'd actually really like him."

Grip tightened again.

"He even has this nickname that he let me use. Says that I can call him 'Nny' from now on."

He warily chuckled some more.

That's it.

That shit eating smiling of his is gonna get carved right off of that ugly ass face of his!

Jimmy's nails dug deeper into Edgar's shirt and it took all of his restraint not to stab them right into his neck, or his eyes even. How DARE he call Johnny that! He has no right! He's lying!

He has to be...

His violent shaking and intense death grip cause Jimmy to accidentally rip Edgar's shirt, unknowingly leaning against him for support against the tears he was stubbornly fighting off. The man softly put his hands on his shoulders, trying to comfort him, thinking that he was sobbing in fear or concern. Jimmy wanted to knife him in the heart.

"I know that it's frightening, but I saw something in him, really." Edgar's voice was smooth and reassuring, filled with compassion and caring. He was just like a sly real estate agent trying to sell some crap house.

You bastard.

"I want to talk to him some more, it seems like he's suffering, like something is getting to his head. I think I can really help him." He looked down at Jimmy and smiled, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. Jimmy bit down on his lip to fight back his sadness, to find the strength to hit the man in front of him who had a gentle hold of his shoulders, but he couldn't. He hated him so much, so why didn't he have the power punch him right now? Why couldn't he just shred his chest to bits and stab through his head, feel the feeble brain matter with his blade and paint his body red? He trembled as he fought back another sob of anger.

Why?

His arms were pressed between their chests as he was pulled into a very gentle embrace, making him gasp in surprise, leaving him bug eyed and his whole body stiff with fear and disgust.

"Please, don't worry," Edgar whispered with a tone of understanding that _almost _seemed real. He squeezed Jimmy's shoulders for a second to emphasize his point.

"It's scary and confusing, but you shouldn't worry about things like this."

Things like this. Jimmy's entire life was based on 'things like this'. What did Edgar know? Nothing! He didn't know where Nny liked to spend his free time, or all of the people he immortalized, or even what his favourite foods were! Edgar was nothing, just like he was when he was still in the basement of Johnny's house. Nothing. Not a scream, not a cry, not even a splatter of blood, an yet, Jimmy panicked; his exact fears were being revealed to him, threatening his happiness. Threatening _Johnny's _happiness, all because he let Edgar go even though he was nothing. Because he had called him his friend.

Because Johnny let Edgar call him 'Nny'.

Fuck!

"I'm going to fix him." Edgar sounded cheery and gentle, like he was going out on a peace keeping mission and, honey, he just might not make it back. Well, let's hope that's the case cuz' there's no way for FUCK'S SAKE that he's even getting NEAR Johnny! The little rat bastard can take his fucking glasses and hugs and shove them up his ass!

"Like Hell you are," Jimmy spat out murderously, venom coating his voice as he pursed his lips like an animal defending their young. Edgar was taken back and slowly slid his arms back to wrap around himself self consciously, feeling the downward shift in mood.

"I suppose it does seem a little far fetched..." He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and looked down at the ground, hugging his sides a bit harder.

"...but I want to try." Jimmy's eyes popped open in fury and his whole body went tense. This guy just doesn't take a fucking hint!

"What's your name?" The teenager asked rudely, completely dropping the fake wheezy voice and taking a few steps back as though he might get infected with something.

"Oh, sorry," Edgar apologized sincerely. "It's Edgar Vargas. I actually didn't get your -"

"Well listen up Mr. Vargas, you little dipshit!" Edgar's jaw dropped in total surprise at the youth's hate filled voice and frightening sneer. He suddenly regretted not running away from him in the first place.

"If you even try to do _anything_," quickly getting madly hysteric, Jimmy couldn't control how loud his voice was getting.

"I SWEAR. You won't be alive much longer," and with that, he ran off into the darkness, leaving an extremely confused Edgar who assumed he was talking about Johnny and merely shrugged it off as a intense, though friendly, warning.

Jimmy ran all the way to the forest about two miles away and immediately hid within it's shadowy enclosure. He let the tears fall down his face the whole time and he couldn't stop wondering why Johnny didn't just kill him back at his house, why he had even let him live, called him friend?

Let him use his nickname...

He pulled his hand carved knife from his pocket and thrust it violently into a tree.

"FUCK!" He repeatedly stabbed it in, imagining it was Edgar's face and that he was saving Johnny because he was somehow hypnotized and never really meant to let him live at all. It was all an accident and when Edgar was gone, it could just be him and Nny.

He stormed off further into the woods, kicking rocks and leaves in his fury until he reached a large tree with 'J' carved into it. It had massive branches jetting out all over the place, but none of them were close enough together that you could climb to the top. He nimbly hopped onto the nearest one and grabbed at a rope the hung beside it. As soon as he yanked it down a rope ladder swooshed by his face and slammed into the trunk.

He had built the tree house there two years ago when he moved out of his parent's home, shortly before he become acquainted with Johnny's work. It took a lot of work, but because he was good in wood and metal work, it didn't cause him too many problems. The most difficult part was making the initial steps to get up the tree to build the actual house portion. With enough measuring and nails, it only took three days to finish, seeing as how a lot of time is wasted on improperly measured cuts of wood. He managed to steal some shingles and windows from a small 'fix it' shop in the city, while the rope was just something he jacked from some kid. Once the rope ladder and device was made, he took out all of the steps that he had nailed into the trunk. There was no way anyone else would be squatting in his house!

Along with an excellent hand for pick-pocketing and metal working, Jimmy considered himself to be living the good life and managed to make so money by selling hand made daggers and knives. He kept the best ones for himself.

He climbed up the familiar rope ladder and hid himself inside of the closet he made, something he used to do as a child that he never quite grew out of. The closet was dark and warm. He felt like no one else could find or see him there and he could just clear his head and think a little more clearly.

Why couldn't he kill Edgar? He wanted to know so badly because it would have been so easy. He was right there and threatening to steal Nny away from him! So why couldn't he!

He ran his fingers over the fabric of the clothes above him and closed his eyes.

"Oh, I see how it is," Jimmy smiled weakly at the realization, the sadness knotting up in his stomach like a rock.

Nny thought Edgar was important.

How could he kill anything that Nny thought was important?

So he sat there and moped and cried for the rest of the night, desperately wishing Edgar didn't exist, but not right now.

Right now, the rain motivated him to keep going. The yellow lines of the road dared him to move faster, and he did. Despite the sloshing in his boots and the heaviness of his clothes, he ran! He ran as fast as he was able and to exactly the right place.

He stared up at the apartment building with a malevolent smile plastered to his face and slowly approached the automatic doors. The stone floor squeaked with each step he took and water droplets dripped down from the damp black hair that hung over his green eyes, leaving little oasis's behind him.

The buzzer to get inside challenged him. Got in his way of being closer to Johnny. A quick stab to the mechanics and the robotic door wheezed open, allowing him entrance and damn did he feel good! Today, he was going to kill Edgar.

* * *

Author Notes:

Holly sweet jeezus, that took awhile!  
Yeah, sorry about not updating. I hadn't been on the ol' computer for awhile but then  
"Holy Shit! I've actually got subscribers!" and, you know...  
Anyways, I rather enjoy writing for little Jimmy. He seems so cute and innocent here,  
gotta make him more... violent. :D  
Enjoy, fools!

Essays and Projects, AWAAAY!  
*shoots self*  
Braaiinnnsss...


	8. Sick Bastard

There was only so much humidity that Edgar could take before he resorted to using the fan, which wafted air around just a little too loudly -a noise that was usually oddly comforting, filling in the silence with a pleasant buzz when he was alone, but as he scurried to and fro in attempts to tidy his apartment, he found that it edged between annoying and useful rather than soothing. He viscously scrubbed at the counters while trying to ignore the fan, little skips in his heart making him a little less unhappy.

Edgar was very excited, hence why his cleaning habits were a bit more... erratic than usual. Whereas any other day he would ignore the little piece of lint lining the t.v screen or the fact that his bed sheets had a few folds sticking out, these things only reminded him of the great change that was about to happen, so he erased their existence to try to rid himself of the anxiety that gnawed on his brain and filled his stomach with, less than ticklish, butterflies. He felt ill with anticipation, both from his instinctive physical reaction (i.e, the butterflies) and the mental strain from his paranoia and happiness having an all out war in his head.

The man desperately wished that he could lie down for a bit, "and maybe settle my belly," he told himself aloud, briefly rubbing his hand over said area.

He sighed and leaned his forehead against the nearest wall, massaging his temples to try and relieve the pain. It never usually worked, but he'd seen it done in movies so many times that he subconsciously made himself believe that it would, becoming a part of his "Many ways to Combat Stress".

"Jesus, it's too stuffy in here..." he muttered to no one in particular. The fan really wasn't doing anything than blowing air around. Edgar contemplated opening the window, but the rain outside was coming down so hard that it was hard to distinguish between air and water, making him think otherwise.

Another sigh filled the room and he made himself stop dusting a small light purple vase of Iceberg Roses that he had begun cleaning without realizing what he was doing, pulling out a chair just to his left and resting his elbow on the table next to it, just before retrieving it back to his side.

_Bad manners to put your elbows on the table, just like Gran used to say. _

Edgar ran his fingers through his light brown hair, feeling the sweat moistening his skin, and smiled at the fact that he finally managed to keep his thoughts inside of his head for once. He gently grabbed the vase with his free hand and examined the flowers inside, each petal swirling in motion with the next, the smooth velveteen texture making his face flush slightly while he appreciated the feel. Not that he really like Iceberg Roses all that much, he honestly believed that he was more of a Night-Blooming Cereus kind of person (he decided after visiting some flower gardens, although he's never actually had one), but these roses were all that he had left from his Gran's funeral. For some reason, they managed to live as long as they did and Edgar wasn't completely sure how. He wasn't an expert on flowers (although he was pretty close), but vase flowers didn't usually last for more than ten days.

He traced the swirly pattern on the glass with his thumb as if in some sort of mild trance.

"_It's so sad. Isn't it?"_

_It is..._

"_What are you going to do?"_

_I'm tired..._

"_There's more to be done."_

_I know..._

"_Smash the vase."_

Edgar sat up, slightly taken back. His internal conversations didn't usually sound like that, but after a couple of minutes of pondering there was still nothing to be heard, confusing him all the more. He pushed his glasses up his the bridge of his nose, put the vase back on the shelf that he found it on and went to the bathroom. He really needed a shower.

Approaching the bathroom door, the first thing Edgar noticed was that he left the light on, something he hardly ever did, although it made sense now, since he had been cleaning it like mad just hours before. The brunette man quickly rotated his hand so that he could see his watch.

6:47

It really had been hours... Johnny left his place at around one and he had been cleaning since then, waiting for the boy's return at 7:30. No wonder his body was so sore! That much cleaning is way too much for one day

_but at least Johnny won't dislike it here._

Edgar caught his reflection in the mirror and noticed the red blush staining his face. He quickly looked away, feeling the heat on his cheeks intensify. What was he getting so embarrassed about? It's not like there's anyone else here. He still couldn't help but feel flustered, the excitement he felt earlier still hadn't worn off completely and thinking about Johnny was just making him go crazy inside. The best thing for him to do right now would be to take a nice warm shower to calm down, he decided while pulling his shirt above his head knocking his glasses off of his face. He hear them gently clink against the tiled floor and was about to kneel down to pick them up until he caught the scent of his shirt. He _really_ needed that shower.

-And what if Johnny comes back early? Edgar's heart raced in panic. He would come back and Edgar would wreak! For some reason this seemed to be extremely stress inducing at the moment. Edgar didn't want to offend Johnny with his God-awful stench! He quickly tore off the rest of his clothing and jumped into the shower, turning the nozzle on "hot" and flinching as he was greeted first with ice cold water before it gradually became warmer.

As his sore limbs were soothed by the heat of the water and the sound of it bouncing off the tub cleared his head, Edgar suddenly realized that Nny would have to get all of his stuff through the rain and he was sure that the boy didn't own an umbrella of any sort. He would finish his shower quickly so that he would be able to help him.

The man reached for the pink fuzz that he identified to be his shower scrunchie hanging for a hook on the shower wall and grasped at the green blur sitting on the ledge. His olive oil and jasmine scented soap coated the scrunchie with wonderful smelling bubbles and he immediately scrubbed at his arms and back, being sure to clean his feet and "other parts" last.

As the last of his soapy armor was washed off by the water, Edgar quickly twisted nozzle a little past "cold" and onto "off". Very inconvenient placement, considering he got a good blast of cold water before the shower was completely off.

When he hopped out of the tub, he blindly grabbed around the white walls, looking for where his white towel was hanging and, just as he grabbed it, he heard his front door slam open. Edgar winced as he heard the doorknob make its harsh collision with the adjacent door, knowing that it would no-doubt leave an unattractive mark, and knowing that Johnny was probably not pleased with having to bring everything up on his own _in the rain_.

Edgar freaked out a bit and clumsily wrapped the towel around his waist, while hastily trying to locate and collect his clothes and his glasses. He worked out how the conversation would go in his head.

_Oh, I'm so glad you made it back alright. I was so worried that this would happen, so I tried to get ready as soon as I could to help you out, but I didn't expect you to be back so soon._

The clunk of boots and sloshing of water resonated through the hallway between the bathroom and the kitchen/ living area. That water was going to be a pain to clean.

_...but believe me, I'm glad you're here and I totally understand why you would be upset._

His hands frantically danced around the tiles as he tried to find his glasses. The entire world was nothing but a blurry mess of colours, just like his paintings in kindergarden.

The footsteps were getting closer.

"Sorry, Johnny, I'm just in the bathroom right now! I'll be out in a moment to help you as soon as I can!"

The footsteps stopped for a moment and Edgar could somehow feel that the boy was contemplating what to do next, however, it wasn't long until they continued, but with much less fury and effort put into each step.

Edgar really wanted to change into different clothes, but that would require him running _out _of the bathroom and possibly into Johnny, which was definitely not a good idea right now, and the ones he had in his hand were sweaty and stinky, completely erasing the purpose of his shower if he put them on.

He was just thankful that- oh.

Edgar could barely make out the dark and blurry outline of the skinny figure before him.

_Damn._

Of coarse he'd forget to close the bathroom door.

The two of them stood still for a moment, the awkward silence intensifying the stare down they were currently having, Johnny obviously able to stare more than Edgar could at the moment, both trying to take in what exactly was going to happen now.

Edgar really wished that Johnny would just walk away right now and leave Edgar to die of embarrassment in peace.

_OH GOD! What kind of guy just leaves the bathroom door open when he's expecting guests! I haven't had anyone over in so long that I must have forgotten the mannerisms one most uphold to in order not to flaunt their nakedness in front of others unintentionally! He probably thinks I'm a huge pervert or some sicko!_

Despite his current poker face, Edgar was having a mental breakdown that involved lots of internal crying. It would be so much nicer if he could see what Johnny's reaction was, or at least any part of him, but his vision was too bad without his glasses that he couldn't analyze any body language whatsoever to help with his next move.

"I... ah..." Edgar stuttered. "I'm very, VERY sorry. It's just... uhm... I'm not uh... used to... um..." He felt like his tongue was swollen. The words weren't as nice sounding as he'd like them to be.

"Johnny, I'm-"

"You're kind of beautiful..." Edgar heard Johnny whisper out. His eyes widened in shock and he could feel his face heat up again.

"W-what!" Edgar fell backwards from his initial shock.

"_Now would be a great time to let him kill you."_

_Not a good time for this!_

"_I disagree. It would be romantic."_

The older man refocused his attention back at the boy, trying to overcome the painfully fast heartbeat and butterflies he was experiencing, noticing that the skinny blur was slowly making its way over to where he was sitting.

"I think I see now..." Johnny continued, unperturbed by Edgar's reaction.

"Johnny I'm really-"

"Johnny?" The voice questioned.

There was a short pause before he continued, more joyously, almost laughing.

"Oh no, please!" Johnny laughed slightly, sounding very pleased with himself.

"Call me Nny."

Edgar wasn't really sure how to go about this. All he had to account for was sound, but sometimes Nny could sound happy, but be plotting out something that would suggest otherwise, even though it seemed as though his violence was lessening...

His best bet was to assume that Johnny was sincere with his happiness, which made Edgar feel much better.

"So J-Nny, d-does this mean you're um... still staying?" Edgar asked rather bashfully, looking up to dark blur's face.

"Whatever do you mean, Edgar dear?" Nny sang out, stroking the side of Edgar's face with the back of his hand. The man fell into a sort of blissful, daydreamy trance, unable to fully comprehend why this was all happening, too happy to care. He was beginning to realize what a man-whore he was for Johnny's attention.

"I-I mean... are you s-still moving in with me?" Edgar fluttered his eyes, trying so very hard to clearly see Nny's face as he held his hand still over Edgar's.

Suddenly the hand whipped back and struck Edgar's cheek, leaving a harsh red sting where it was once a loving caress. It was all Edgar could do to hold back his tears.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" Johnny's voice cracked and became more shrill as he screamed.

"YOU MEAN HE'S FUCKING MOVING IN WITH YOU!" Edgar slid further away from the figure. That was definitely _not_ Johnny.

Despite his attempts at sliding across the bathroom floor to get away, Edgar was on the ground, wearing nothing but a towel, nearly blind, and had the door blocked by an unknown intruder, most likely a teenager from the sound of the voice cracks. What frightened him the most was that it was a teenager who clearly knew who Johnny was, and he couldn't escape the feeling that he'd seen/heard him somewhere before.

"OH I SEE HOW IT IS!" The boy continued to scream out. Rage and venom very clearly filled his voice.

"YOU... YOU MUST HAVE PLANNED THE WHOLE THING!"

He got closer to Edgar, who could now see that he held a large shiny object in one hand. Judging from the approximate shape, he'd say it was a knife.

Fuck.

"_Well, it may not be Johnny, but who ever this is looks and acts close enough."_

_No, this isn't..._

"_Listen, I recommend getting up and at least ATTEMPTING to try and beat the shit out of him before you get shanked, lest you want to go down blind AND naked without some sort of fight."_

_I don't know if... I'm really scared. Maybe he'll reach a moral epiphany?_

"_Right. Like 'God' is gonna save you."_

"...MAKES SO MUCH SENSE! Oh, you don't know _how long_ I've waited for this." The sudden serious edge caught Edgar off guard who, realizing he missed a fair bit of the stranger's rant, really hoped he hadn't missed anything important.

"_Except for the part where you get the shit torn out of you while this guy run's off with your boyfriend... you didn't really miss too much."_

The intruder's face was inches away from Edgar's and he tried to scuttle away some more, but his back was already against the wall. He was very literally trapped. The boy placed his hand back on Edgar's face, who flinched in disgust, much to the stranger's amusement.

"Oh, you really are very pretty like this." The teen whispered in the brunette's ear, feeling him squirm at the sensation that his hot breath on his earlobe made. Edgar could picture the evil Cheshire-like grin that must have been on the boy's face.

"I might just have to enjoy myself a little bit before I enjoy myself A LOT." He seductively cooed out, somehow managing to sound menacing at the same time. He began to stroke Edgar's cheek as he nibbled on his earlobe.

_Enough of this!_ Edgar decided, and lifted a shaky arm, preparing to send a punch flying. Suddenly, the flash of the blade flew across his vision and he cried out as an unbearable amount of pain seared through him from his earlobe, which was now burning and bleeding uncontrollably. He could feel heavy globs of blood slide down the left side of his face and on his right cheek, which the boy licked at playfully, insane giggles escaping his mouth. When Edgar tried to tilt away he felt the cold and rusted edge of the knife scrape against his neck.

"No, no, no." The stranger said motherly, before becoming violent once again.

"You have to be good and take this like the little fag you are." He held the knife even tighter at Edgar's throat as if to accent what he meant.

"_Seriously. Get up!"_

_uhnn..._

The blood flow from Edgar's ear was too much, and he was quickly losing consciousness, unable to keep his eyes open or think straight.

"...W...why?" He uttered out weakly.

"You're not allowed to have him." The voice quietly answered right after.

"Johnny..." Edgar's eyes were closing, and for a moment he was thankful that he was going to black out through all of it, but the teen kept shaking him awake.

"Hey! Don't you fucking pass out on me!" His nails dug into Edgar's shoulders roughly as he shook his limping body back and forth, his head occasionally smacking into the wall.

The shaking stopped and the older man took this opportunity to sleep, wishing that Johnny was there to help, yet thankful that he didn't have to see him like this, but he was immediately awoken by a stream of ice cold water water hitting his body. He jerked forward from the shock and his heart started with such force that he was momentarily winded. His lips and fingertips were the first to freeze up and he chattered spastically, feeling his muscles twitch from the cold.

When he looked up, he saw the teen tossing the shower head back in the tub and advance back to him.

"Handy place for this." He said malevolently, placing himself on top of Edgar's waist with his knees on either side of him and the knife back to where his throat was.

"Can't have you doing any more of that." He casually dragged the blade down Edgar's neck before it reached his chest where he began caressing it for a moment with his other hand.

He leaned his face right next to Edgar's, who flinched away and squinted his eyes shut.

"Shh...shh..." The boy said softly. "I'm not gonna hurt you..." and for a moment Edgar believed that he was telling the truth, until he could feel the blade slice across his stomach.

"Ugh!" Edgar gasped out in surprise, trying hard to breath.

"God, I guess I understand you're appeal..." The stranger said calmly.

"I could do this all day, gorgeous guy like you."

His tongue traced all the way up the frozen skin on Edgar's neck, licking the cut on his cheek before the boy's lips met Edgar's, who refused to open. With a sharp penetrating bite to his bottom lip Edgar screamed out before the stranger dove in with a painfully violent kiss. Feeling the older man's blood drip down the boy's chin caused him to purr in pleasure while his tongue bruised the inside of his mouth, making tears flow down his face.

Edgar was disgusted with himself. He had been drenched with ice cold water by the boy who broke into his house and was currently violating him, but he felt, for a moment, grateful for the heat that that same body currently provided him.

"_Sick bastard."_


	9. I'm so confused, please kill me

Oh, what could it possibly be? The very thought of blood running down his arms as the man who stole Johnny was forced to his knees, tormented and tortured to the point of begging for death, was ultimately too much for Jimmy not to grin into every venomous kiss and bite that he delivered unto Edgar. Could this be the reasoning for the hysterics that the boy was currently feeling? Fuck it if he cared! The little fag beneath him was going to die slowly and painfully, just like he was supposed to a year ago, but he had to prove somewhat more useful before then. An interest fee- and, for fuck's sake, the man was way more _interesting_ without his clothes on.

Jimmy had priorities though. Well... some.

His goal was to reveal the true evil that rested in Edgar, rip it out of his heart and force the man to see what a horrible person he was, and slowly murder him, hours after he's begged for death.

A sly grin slithered onto Jimmy's face before snapping back into a frown.

There was only one issue at hand here.

Johnny _liked_ Edgar...

How could Jimmy destroy something that Johnny held so close?

Would he be upset?

Even if he explained everything, maybe Johnny would hate him and forever resent him for it.

Did he only have room for one person in his heart?

_It's just not fair! I've always admired Johnny and watched over him for years, but this BASTARD comes up out of nowhere and FUCKS EVERYTHING UP!_

Jimmy's fist cracked against the side of Edgar's face, throwing it to the side- against the bathroom wall and, for a moment, he thought that he was just dreaming the whole situation, but when he came back to reality he found that his spur of the moment "face punch" had knocked the man unconscious. Jimmy's years on the road had ensured that his livelihood could always count on the safety provided by his bare hands, toughened by the contact made by so many others.

The little pussy was no match for him. Johnny would be proud.

His hands shook.

_Would he really?_

It was a though an earthquake was happening inside of him, smashing around his brain and coursing through his body. It caved his lungs in and suddenly it took all of his effort to breath, nostrils flaring and eyes burning.

_Why? Why does he like him?_

It was hard to imagine what Jimmy lacked. He based himself off of the best person he knew, having no real flaws that he could see. He was based off of Johnny, with his own special touch.

He could feel the pain of crying in his throat.

_Am I not good enough?_

Edgar lay there like a wilting lily, his head cocked to the side and his eyes peacefully closed. What could he possibly have that Jimmy didn't?

Jimmy was a kick ass teenager with a no shit attitude and a good hand for weapons, able to deal quick and efficient blows with his hand crafted knives, a wonderful facsimile of the very wonderful Nny. He even had his own nickname, Mmy, and it sounded so similar to Johnny's! Jimmy knew that they would get along from the beginning because he _trained_ very hard to make sure that they would. They could understand each other's pain and suffering, their internal conflicts and how society could never appreciate such great minds, and no one could get in their way because they would have such a connection it would be just like telepathy! They would artistically express themselves to any fuck who messed with them- with a steel blade, that is.

Edgar, on the other hand, was a conservative, out of the way, agreeable and righteous person. He read the news, helped out in charities, cared for others, and had a freakishly "clean" lifestyle. The worst thing Jimmy ever saw him do was suspiciously rummage through his neighbors trash. After a few more moments of watching, Edgar took some of its contents out, walked off with his arms stretched as far away from his face as possible, and dropped it all in some nearby blue bins- sorting the plastics, papers and cardboard. Apparently, he wasn't pleased with the fact the his neighbors didn't recycle, or the fact that he just dunked his hands in garbage.

Johnny was NOTHING like that, so there was absolutely no way a total fruit like Edgar could ever win his affection.

Yet, Edgar had somehow weaseled his way into Johnny's everyday life, becoming a part of his daily routine and changing it, changing HIM, in the most drastic way possible. Johnny was getting further and further away from his perfection and closer to a domesticated wolf- a dog type... person, thing, but it wasn't just that. It was the way they looked at each other with that understanding that only an old couple could have. Respect and contentment, understanding and infatuation?

Jimmy had no fucking clue, but it pissed him off. Big time.

Edgar got something that Jimmy worked years for in a matter of weeks.

The fuck does that bastard think he is?

The teen pressed his hands against Edgar's chest and lifted himself up.

There was no movement from the unconscious.

He took a few step over the shower and snatched the head from out of the tub, cold water still streaming from the last time it was used. Jimmy bit down on his tongue and fought back a sob of frustration before giving one last glance at Edgar.

The blast of cold water propelled the man's body forward and made him gasp and cough, his eyes forced themselves open and stared up at Jimmy with fear, which was a bit of a confidence booster.

The boy tossed the shower head back in the tub and took his place back on top of Edgar, his hands practically fumbled over themselves in their excitement and his knife gently rubbed against anything Jimmy could see. He really wanted to allow himself to enjoy this moment, but one look into those green eyes and he felt... bad.

_THEIF!_ Jimmy screamed at himself. _THEIF BASTARD! NNY WILL BE HIS UNLESS YOU DO SOMETHING NOW! _

Maybe Jimmy couldn't do this...

_Do you really think you stand a chance against him?_

He could feel his eyes widening in fear.

That was true. Jimmy was definitely no Edgar.

_And Edgar is what HE likes._

Johnny could never love Jimmy.

"Fucking whore." Jimmy whispered into Edgar's ear, enjoying the shrill screams that escaped his mouth as the knife dug into his side. The man cringed and gasped, sweat and water dripping down his face. The little pussy couldn't handle it! Not that Jimmy was surprised though, I mean, he could hardly stay conscious when he gave him a lovely ear-piercing with his teeth.

_Why?_

_Why are you so perfect?_

Jimmy forced their lips together once again, working his hands down Edgar's chest, towards where the towel lay. It was all he could do to hold back his tears. Jealousy? Remorse? Honestly, Jimmy had no idea, and he was frightened for a moment that the tears dripping along their faces were his own; it was only Edgar, crying in his own hopelessness as the towel was completely off of him. Jimmy had a hard time focusing after that, a god-like being right beneath him, completely at his mercy. He had to concentrate all of his energy on Johnny, because Johnny was the greatest person to ever live and kill and, even though Jimmy didn't believe in fate or any of that shit, he was sure as hell that he and Nny were soulmates, destined to dance along to Life's indifferent song together. Edgar was the only thing in his way of happiness.

Jimmy had spent three years of his life worshipping Johnny and trying to recreate himself to be as perfect as he thought he could be, which was just like Johnny. He strived to achieve his goals and have the courage to eradicate all the little shit-heads that ever fucked with him! Johnny was his role-model, his God, his hope, and his...love. He didn't want to lose him to Edgar. The very fact that Edgar was so GODDAMN PERFECT made it _really _hard to hate the man, especially with those eyes... those soft lips... that submissive attitude... it was like abusing an angel, and the crimson drops rolling on that sweet skin were so...

"Holy fuck..." His breath softly cooed against Edgar's chest as Jimmy hunched over, trying to hold himself back from totally violating the man before him. This was a little different from what he planned.

Yes, very different.

He hadn't intended to get all infatuated with the man at the last minute, but when you're only nineteen years old and clutching on to the naked body that is currently wooing your idol, it's pretty damn difficult to get your mind out of the gutter- and Jimmy's mind was _always _in the gutter. He couldn't help himself. Sex is awesome.

His eyes rolled towards Edgar's face and he caught sight of green orbs weakly observing him, there was no anger whatsoever. pleading, questioning, but not hatred.

Cascading rays of light bounced off of every water and blood droplet and made Jimmy's prey glisten like those roses they show on infomercials. Magically beautiful.

(I bet you're thinking "magically delicious"!)

..._What was my plan again?_

Jimmy's eyes traveled a bit lower, over Edgar's chest and down to a cute "v" just below his belly button.

"Shit..."

When the mind goes blank, there's nothing left but raw instinct, ready to kick in at any moment. It's what animals use all the time, but because their minds are always "blank", they aren't consciously aware of the fact that they are running purely on instinct. Humans have the occasional moment where the mind tunes out and just let's loose in a completely unhindered and violent propulsion, clawing at whatever the body desires most at that moment, but, being humans, it doesn't take long to revert back to our usual selves, so the movement has to be so quick and tumultuous that it takes more effort than what we are able to sustain.

Jimmy's moment of instinct was over. His mind rebooted and absorbed everything with painful accuracy.

The horrors that had just been committed; he was a child with sneaky eyes, spying on his parents in the bedroom for the first time. What was happening and why did it feel so wrong? Edgar's weakness had it's own charm and wore away at Jimmy's conscience like sandpaper, because he was a _bad person_ filled with jealousy and misguided fury. He let his emotions control him and now someone who was way too good to possibly be a human being was going to die.

The boy was dizzy and confused and he wanted to throw up, but first he wanted to get away from Edgar. He wanted his blood off of his hands and he wanted this to be just another dream to wake up from.

"I- I'm so sorry." His voice came out dry and silent with shaky hands holding the man's face.

He pressed their noses together for a moment, his breath quavering against bruised flesh.

"I'm sorry..." He wanted to keep apologizing over and over again, let him know that he thought that Edgar was a good man, wanted to wipe all of the blood from his body and take his anger, but the most he could bring himself to do was soothingly caress his face, gently tracing around each gash with shame.

The world was blurry and sticky and stained with tears, they rained down without remorse onto Edgar's body, each one with it's own unspoken apology. Jimmy was in conflict between wanting to run away and wanting to stay and comfort Edgar, but was too choked up to say anything.

His eyes sweltered, creamy peach and red blotches blotted his vision. Edgar had been transformed into something hideous. Where there had once been the glorious emulation of art, was now a gory apparition that was kept hidden in nightmares. The ones that Jimmy awoke to, convincing himself that they were better than they really were. That's all it has ever been, lying to try to be like someone he's not. Wishing and desperately praying that he could be a person as amazing as Johnny. Loving his confidence and intellectual ranting, his crazed cries for acceptance, his mundane for human life.

There were tremors spiraling through his body when Jimmy slowly rose from Edgar's. His knees were bent weakly and his hands shook uncontrollably as they reluctantly slid from the man's face.

Edgar warily looked up at him, wondering if he was going to die at that moment, but too feeble and blind to make any effort to move or escape. It was pitiful to watch someone so undeserving receive such brutal treatment, beaten nearly to death, naked and abused. Jimmy had to leave before he did something more.

He may not be like Johnny, he thought, slowly creeping towards the door, keeping a worried eye on the man, but there was certainly _something_ wrong with him. Just not the something that he'd like.

His hand felt around for the doorframe behind him, and he took one last look at the bloody mess at the ground, the only evidence that Jimmy would leave in this room.

What would Johnny think?

Fuck. What would the boy think...

Johnny was the only word that echoed through Jimmy's mind. If things worked out between them, then he could forget this whole damn mess. If things worked out, it would all be worth it.

It was definitely a solid idea, in fact, it had been in Jimmy's original plan. How could he be so idiotic and get distracted by a little skin? _Delicate, velveteen_- No! Edgar had done it with Johnny, made him flake out on his ideals, but he COULD NOT get to Jimmy. Jimmy could save Johnny once and for all, but to do that, Edgar's death was necessary.

Johnny was a fucking genius and would surely appreciate the gesture, noting how handy the workmanship was, and REALIZING how stupid he had been, neglecting his duties of ridding the world of more lowlifes. He would _praise_ Jimmy for bringing forth the light that had guided him in the beginning and they would get to work together, side by side!He would worship Johnny's every command and trace each of his footsteps in his mind. There wouldn't be a happier way for him to live.

The doorknob shook underneath his fingers and he gave a hesitant look into the hallway.

Jimmy wasn't going to leave after all.

He'd had an epiphany and was right back on to the beginning. There was still a way to fix everything and make a happy ending for him and Johnny.

"I'm sorry for the holdup," he chirped, pivoting on his heel dramatically and walking back to Edgar.

"Don't worry though," he continued, pulling his blade from out of his trench coat. He spun the tip across his thumb, lightly piercing his skin.

"I think I can get back on track."

He threw his hand high in the air, pointing the blade towards Edgar's chest, where so many other wounds had already decorated. He was going to do this. He was _finally_ going to get rid of the barricade in Johnny's life.

Killing someone is very exhilarating. It gets your blood flowing, your heart rushing, it makes you feel like you're high as shit! When you have a strong enough motive it's like the long awaited chapter of a series coming to an end; it's the ultimate closure, because the dead can't come back. It's solid and reliable.

Jimmy's smile couldn't have been wider, holding his dagger up high and soaking in Edgar's confused and terrified expression. He had to enjoy this moment, savour every detail and describe it to Johnny. God, Johnny would be so happy, it made Jimmy even more excited just thinking about it, it felt like his heart would pop from beating so fast! They would have a fucking party over the man's corpse! They would become the best of friends! They would stay together! Always together! Dancing! Laughing! Drinking! Killing! Talking! Sharing! Writing! Stabbing! Stab! Stab! Stab! STAB! STAB! STAB!

STAB EDGAR!

And with those words strummed into Jimmy's brain, he made his motion. The knife sped down towards Edgar and the boy's face was a horribly insane spiral of twisted happiness, so happy, in fact, that he did not hear the sounds coming from down the hallway; his heartbeat so intense and his laughter maniacal that not even the approaching footsteps drew his attention away from his much anticipated and needed kill. He was going to kill Edgar. It was going to be fucking amazing.

Blood curling screams filled the entire home once the blade rammed into Edgar. Blood spurted all over the walls and floor, coating everything in the room. The sounds were like that of an injured animal, horribly high pitched wailing and sobbing, and Jimmy just looked down and laughed harder, waiting for the screams to die down slightly.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he giggle out manically. "I meant to get your heart!"

Jimmy ruthlessly ripped the knife out of Edgar's shoulder, releasing more blood and even louder screams as the man struggled to grab at his wound. The skin blistered and throbbed and made the boy's heart race until it hurt.

"..and now," Jimmy stated theatrically, raising the knife once again, preparing for the final impact. He was ready. This was his commitment to Johnny, and he was ready to do whatever it took.

"You d-ugh!" He choked, and the last words gurgled out of his lips while blood slid out of his mouth. His eyes bulged out in shock at the piercing pain that shot into his back and he could feel everywhere. It was like he was burning alive from the inside, yet, it was horribly cold at the same time. Everything was getting dark around the corners, his head was getting light and he couldn't hold his arms up anymore. His whole body felt like lead. He just wanted to sleep. Jimmy could feel his body slowly leaning forwards and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

A loud clang bounced off the walls when he dropped the knife. Jimmy's hands fell to his side moments before he fell to the ground. Blood pooled around his body and he coughed it out in front him, he was like a blood fountain.

He couldn't stop the ringing in his head.

"...ffffuck..." He slurred out, spraying more blood around as an unbearable amount of pain shot up through his back when he tried to move. It hurt like fucking hell!

_Who the fuck did this..._

Jimmy rolled his eyes around the room, trying his hardest to keep them open against their will, and noticed a large black pair of shoes walking towards him. They stomped angrily against the ground before stopping right in front of his face. All he could see was the black of the shoe.

He let his eyes close. It felt nice.

"You goddamn son of bitch! Go fuck with Satan when you go to hell!"

It felt like someone stabbed his brain with a live wire, the ringing bled in his ears and he wanted to die. The pain wouldn't stop and it kept ringing like screams, it tormented him, it tortured him! He was going to suffer for eternity!

"I'm sorry!" He cried out, but it only sounded like a hoarse whisper. His entire body heaved with the force of breathing and his lungs filled with blood. He was drowning, burning, and being electrocuted all at once, but the pain faded. He was thankful. It faded completely.

Everything did eventually.

* * *

Holy shit! That took a very very very long time to write.  
I had no idea what I was going to do here, but people wanted a Jimmy pov  
so... there ya go!  
He died, for those of you who didn't really read it.  
I didn't like how this turned out...

Um, if you haven't seen it, I have a little poll thing at the top of my profile page  
yeah, check that out  
or I _will_destroy you.

Please, your comments sustain my life force!  
Feed them to me O_O

Darling Violetta - I want to kill you  
I imagined this song playing as Jimmy was dying.  
The lyrics fit him so well TT_TT

3:30 am... I need to sleep


	10. Hold my hand, no one will kill us

How do you erase bad memories?

You create new ones, blow them softly in your ears, whisper them to yourself until it's true  
become anyone you want to be.

You are courageous.  
Dignified, gracefully dark, a beautifully misunderstood soul.

Things are only hard for you now because the future will be great.  
You can make this better.

At four in the morning, when the moon was lolling over misty-blue clouds in the darkened sky, few tiny white stars speckling its surface, the only thing to distract from the sound of chirping crickets was the rustling and crumpling of paper coming from a tree-house deep in the woods- constructed of child-like glee, but filled with hate and remorse of a broken youth. There was the occasional grunt of insomnia, a cry of despair, and the scratching of pen. Together, it was an orchestra of solemn solitude.

Jimmy had nightmares. Not as often as one would think, but he had them. Sometimes, on particularly lonely nights, he would toss and turn in his sleep, his mind would wander into dark(er) places and the voices of friends and foes resonated in his brain while he tried to sleep. His dreams were filled with brokenhearted memories from highschool- girls who hurt him so much, the girls he hurt back in anger, and that one moment he had with that one guy... but that wasn't the worst part, his family would sneak it's way in there somehow, and he would miss them. Well, he would miss his brother, Vincent, anyways. His dad too.

Dad was always such a pushover. When him and Vince wanted cake for breakfast, they always managed to convince their dad to let them have it. He would just smile and say, "Oh geez, I guess if you're not even bothering to brush your teeth..." pull the mix out, grab a bowl, ask who wanted to lick the spoon after, get caught in the ensuing quarrel. They always had cake mix in the cupboard, which was strange because Jimmy couldn't recall a time when they ever went out and bought it. The first few weeks (they would make at least one cake a week) the flavour had been vanilla, to which Vincent had complained was a "boring taste" for days on end until it had magically changed to chocolate. The cake remained chocolate each week until Jimmy had turned seventeen and Vince was fifteen. They didn't eat as much cake four years prior to then, but it was still change enough to make the two boys uneasy. Two brothers who confided in and helped each other selflessly, both new that there was something up.

First, dad stopped making cakes. He started going out on weekends and stopped _really_ listening to how his son's days at school were. Jimmy still didn't have many friends and Vince was still adorable and smart, though a frown creeped across his features and little pools filled his ocean-blue eyes at each dinner conversation. That was probably the most painful part for Jimmy.

Vince had gone into his brother's room one night and cried about how lonely he felt now that dad wasn't paying them any attention. He thought that maybe he didn't love them anymore. Jimmy wanted to say something as he held his little brother close, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything in their dad's defense. Vincent's skin was as porcelain as angel dust and his hair as fine and golden as wheat glistening in he summer heat, complemented by his brilliant eyes and slim body, his brother was like a god fallen to earth, sobbing hopelessly in Jimmy's arms, searching for a comfort that only a brother could provide. Jimmy was offended that his father could even bear to hurt his most precious son like this! The most innocent and naive creature crumbling from a vaguely suggestive breeze from his dad.  
"...I don't know how he could ignore you." Vincent's voice was more controlled and silent as he regained composure, but remained clinging to his brother's waist. Jimmy merely looked down at him curiously. He didn't know what he had to do with it.  
"You just seem so lonely... it makes me sad," and Vince's voice quite painfully cracked from trying to hold back more tears. That was the stone that broke Jimmy's heart. It didn't matter how much he cared about his dad, Vince came first. He would have a very serious talk with his father about this. His dad was being immature and just needed to be told to grow up, but for the time being, Jimmy would enjoy his brother's company. He sat up against the side of his bed, and the unwilling-to-let-go Vince simply sat on his lap and wrapped himself around Jimmy's neck. They talked about their lives and how school was going, occasionally nodding off until they had completely fallen asleep.

There are so many things that open up in the mind's eye late at night or early in the morning. Brilliant, profound things.

It gets too difficult to filter out the unpleasant ones in your sleepiness.  
Writing helps.

But for how long?  
How long could he keep erasing those memories?

Jimmy still had troubles making "best friends". Vince stayed close to him though, which Jimmy didn't mind at all. He watched his little brother excel at mathematics and science, his bright blue eyes lit up whenever Jimmy sang his praise. If they ever went out, Vince would clutch onto Jimmy's hand, which he figured was just his childish nature coming out of him. He was so innocent, Jimmy was kind of jealous, but happy at the same time.  
The two brothers were best friends. They never separated unless they had to, and with their dad gone more and more often, they felt far closer to each other than they ever felt with him.

But, one day, their dad came back with someone else.

Tall and blonde, slim red cocktail dress, smooth legs and piercing cherry-red lips over feathery skin. Jimmy thought that dad had brought home a prostitute.  
"Who's she?" Vince whispered to Jimmy warily.

Click clack, high heels and father's smile.  
Vince holds his hand.

The memories are getting all muddled up.  
Shouldn't have tampered with them.

"She's been here for a long time..." Unusually unhappy tone from Vincent. He clings to Jimmy while he does the dishes, keeping a careful eye on his father and Jessica- the new woman, in the adjacent room. He's been doing that a lot more lately. Clinging and watching.

"Dad says he's in love with her. Do you not like her?" The soap smell tickles his nose and he focuses on scrubbing the last of the egg from the plate, but he can still feel his brother shaking his head.

"That's okay, I don't really like her either. Too snobby," they both chuckle at this and agree to play video games in the basement after.

Headache... throbbing like a million horses cloven hooves treading over his brain lobes.  
This seems important.  
What...  
...happened...?

The dishes are done. They play video games. Jimmy wins again, Vincent congratulates him with a victory hug/tackle.

"Boys! Get a hold of yourselves!" Jessica is yelling at them to stop rolling around on the ground. They both stop, Vincent has a very serious look on his face. Apparently they're "too old to be playing together like that". An ugly snarl decorates the woman's maroon lips. She's wearing a black dress tonight. Vincent does not seem impressed. Jimmy admires how pretty she looks. Shame that she's such a bitch.

"Come on Jimmy, let's go C-See a movie!" Vincent grabs Jimmy's arm and drags him upstairs past Jessica, who is now calling for their dad to tell him to control his kids, even though there's _nothing_ _to _control, at least, not that Jimmy can tell.

"What movie do you wanna C-See?" He smiles as they make their way to the theater. C-See is their code for Sneak In To See. They've done it tones of times before, not because they didn't have any money, but because they just wanted something to do. When Vincent had first agreed to it, Jimmy began to wonder about how naive his little brother really was, but it had been two months after Jessica had moved in. He figured he must be rebelling against her presence.

"Let's see a romance." Jimmy was a little taken back. It had never occurred to him that Vincent would like those kinds of movies, and he felt a little inclined to suggest something else, but the younger of the two was flush with embarrassment for asking, and Jimmy didn't want his courage to go to waste. He immediately remembered all the girls he had asked out in his lifetime. They could have gone so well if they just gave him a chance, so perhaps the movie wouldn't be so bad if he gave _it _a chance.

"Sure," he sounded as chipper about it as possible, not wanting to make his brother feel guilty about forcing him to watch something he didn't like. Vince was like that. Too caring.

The buzz and crackle of a broken machine hummed in the air  
in his head.  
Is this when... this...

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Search not viable.

god.

The movie was boring. The girl was in love, the guy wasn't. She tries to ignore him by focusing on work.  
She works.  
She has a horribly dry office job.  
There was no nudity.

"Hey, Jim?" Vincent whispered to Jimmy, placing his hand on top of his brother's.

"Whatsup?" He tried to sound enthusiastic, but Jimmy wanted to leave. This was just too painful.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," Vince didn't really need to whisper. There were no new movies playing and the only people there were two old couples who could hardly hear, plus, it was a late night Monday screening, so it was already empty enough. "Wanna come with?"

Jimmy nodded his head. Anything to get out of there. Vincent hastily grabbed his arm and dashed out of the room with questionable zest.

Malfunction=internalserver/.t-database "backuptrace"OVERRUN/internalserver?

The bathrooms were huge, due to the usual over-crowded rush when they screen the _good_ movies.  
It was one overly complex and maze-like hallway before you reached the long stretch of urinals and stalls.

"Alright, I guess I'll just be over there," Jimmy motioned towards a corner of the room near the sinks, untainted by greasy hands due to recent washing.

Vincent didn't go anywhere, he just hunched over, shaking.

"Hey Vince? Are you..." Jimmy lifted his chin up carefully to see his face, stained with tears just as he had suspected. It seemed second nature for the boy to cry so much nowadays. Jessica was far too stressful and demanding for him, always taking his dad away and keeping Jimmy busy with all these chores and tasks. He was now responsible for grocery shopping and cooking dinner, so there was little time for his little brother.

"Do you love me?" Vince asked him sadly.

!="pppppppCKEkppport/D9...;ddd-dread/majorminor:levels="testosterone"/;ppppp-painport^fax

It was foreign to him, the entire concept, everything that was happening. The hands that were currently doing their best to seduce him, traveling lower and lower with unskilled impatience, the tongue working its way around his lips. Warm comfort of another body, another mind that said "I know exactly how you feel".  
His lifelong friend and only brother, pure looks and heart now spoiled in the blood because he needed something to fill the void. When Jessica yelled or screamed there was no one to run to but his brother because father was wrapped up too tight to want to notice. She screamed that they weren't good enough.  
She yelled at Jimmy that he was a coward.  
Weak.

He was against a wall, his back slowly making its way closer to the ground. He never noticed how tall Vince had become. Almost as tall as him.  
Their breath collided for a moment, equally tired and rushed, not fully understanding how, but feeling. That's all they were doing. Feeling each other as warm, empty, and wonderfully familiar- the only person that made any sort of sense anymore.  
Jimmy couldn't understand anyone else but Vincent.

The harsh slaps and bruises "mysteriously" appeared overnight, and Jimmy hated his dad for not realizing, or pretending not to realize. Jessica would sneak sly grins across the table while Jimmy dished out the meatloaf. His chest hurt with the effort of controlling his anger. Vincent would stay up with the whole night to talk about it, saying that he could tell Jessica to cut it out. Jimmy was too beaten to protest.

His shirt slipped over top his head. His brother absorbed him completely and pressed their noses together. Jimmy had removed the other's shirt at some point, revealing them both. All the welts and marks tainting their skin, especially Vince, small and lily petaled child unrightfully abused. The older almost matched his own, not particularly confident in his looks, almost feeling he deserved the pain that was inflicted on him.

"Brother..." The blue eyed boy breathed out, caressing the older's face. They passionately kissed once more, Vince pulling away, keeping close. "Stay with me..."

They exposed themselves, not only in skin, but in heart. They shared what couldn't be said in words, what couldn't be brought up in blood. Finding hope in their closeness and heat, binding together with more trust than ever before, sharing the ultimate affection and dedication to one another, a silent seal between brothers.  
Was it romance?  
Hormones?  
Maybe just the need for someone to understand and be near. To feel that you aren't completely alone.  
Someone to give yourself to, who can give back.

Jimmy forgot how wonderful closeness was, how wonderful people could be.  
How did he ever fear it?

mem:closesequence="shutdown"Prepare:launchgo/

The beatings got worse; more bottles. They were afraid that she might have known.  
She must have found out.

One night the inhuman scream resonated. The one night they slept in their own rooms, liking too much to be together, feeling to lonely otherwise.  
Father was out on a business trip.

CCKICKCCKKKK...ss-scriptrun:"...count"?closssssing...10sec/.

Door opens,  
Jessica. Vince. His face and legs red. Crying, tears and blood everywhere.  
Hiding in the corner like a scared animal.

Pushed her...Vince, what...CKCKBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Blamed it on me, stayed in the hospital for a week.

Told to go out, get food. Got CD's instead at CD Cesspool. Saw her at Taco Hell.  
Saw him.  
Saw Johnny.

sequence:COMPLETE

_**The Fear  
By: Mmy  
**_

_Do you quake all day and night_

_and shake in fear of mortal fright?_

_Do you cry between each breath_

_and try to clean yourself of death?_

_Does worry wallow from your grave_

_and penetrate the strongest nave,_

_or has conviction gone away?_

_-Handless wrists with-which to pray_

_never casts your woes away._

_Perhaps not even the light of day_

_could ever shine the sun your way,_

_when darkness simmers in the deep_

_where wandering, aimless souls can creep,_

_harbor demons in your thole_

_and add it to your mind's lost soul,_

_reach out for a burning flame,_

_but nerves are bent around the pain;_

_there is no hope for any fight_

_when lives are lost to mortal fright._

_**I Need to Feel You  
By: Mmy  
**_

_Elemental_

_sentimental_

_hold me closer_

_where a choker_

_lost in traffic_

_stolen basket_

_grandma's calling_

_ceiling's falling_

_flaking dirt plates_

_chasing skirt-dates_

_clean disaster_

_moving faster_

_growing inflamed_

_oh so ashamed_

_pretty pleases_

_tickle teases_

_cold robotic_

_catatonic_

* * *

This was the most I could scrape out of Jimmy's rotting corpse-brain  
and this is mostly irrelevant to the story.  
I just felt like making Jimmy seem like a sort of good person after killing him.  
I felt a little bad for doing that.

His brother Vincent was very much in love with him.  
Although Jimmy just felt that they were "Extremely close brothers"  
I'll let you use your imagination on what happens to Vince afterwards.

If you're confused at the part where it get's all "computer-y"  
it's just his memories shutting down as he dies.

Like watching an old t.v show on a battery television, but the battery is dying.  
Anyway... probably the last chapter I'm gonna do for awhile.

Jimmy wrote some poems too. Aint that niiice?

Should get to sleep. It's already 2:30 am!  
(YESTERDAY WAS MY BIRTHDAY... *cough cough*)_  
_


	11. Oh, my head

**Thank you all so much for your reviews! Reading them makes me...*sniffle*.**

**I know haven't exactly been writing much lately, but I promise, as soon as I get the time to, I will!**

**For now, here's a little excerpt for the story!  
**

* * *

Whenever you bite down on tinfoil, you know that you've done something horribly wrong. Horrible little electric shocks spiral down from your face and the most uncomfortable sensation sits in the nerves of your teeth, the tongue gets battered with that cold, coppery taste and it feels like you just had a nose bleed. Edgar got similar symptoms when he ate kiwi too, although he never discovered why. He just avoided eating kiwi.

When he first woke up, Edgar thought that maybe he ate a hell of a lot of kiwi because _everything_ was hurting and smelt of blood. Each time he tried to swallow, thick globs of bloody tasting saliva painfully scratched down his throat, pulling on the back of his nasal passages, he noted disgustedly. It would help if he got up off of the floor, but he was so weak that he couldn't even bring himself to open his eyes. It was much more comfortable to just continue to rest where he was, if it weren't for the awful paranoia buzzing in the atmosphere.

_I'm just gonna try to feel around for a bit. At least try to understand WHERE I am._

He slowly dragged his arms out from his sides and cautiously began to touch the floor space around him. His fingertips danced around cold ceramic tiles and traced the mastic adherence that criss-crossed between them. There were plenty of large patches of a thick protruding, rust-like substance surrounding the area, as well as a plethora of unidentifiable objects, some, disgustingly squishy and wet. It didn't help to force his eyes to flitter open for a few moments either, they were filled with tears and sweat, and without his glasses, Edgar was mostly blind anyways.

_"It's for the best. I don't recommend taking a visual look anywhere right now. I'm not even comfortable with the fact that you're touching hi- erm... __that__."_

The voice didn't seem like it was at all disturbed by any of this. It almost seemed like it was mocking Edgar.

_ Are you implying that you know what exactly happened? _

Edgar questioned his inner voice. How could his Inner Self know more than his Physical Self?- and why did it seem to have a very distinct personality from his own?

"Never mind," He muttered aloud. Maybe he didn't want to know after all, he decided, and pulled his hands back towards his chest. It would be all right if he just curled up and slept for a bit longer.

_"Yeah, sounds good. While we're at it, why don't we just ignore oncoming traffic next time we cross the street?"_

_ Oh, just be quiet. _

Stupid voice. The headache and bodily pain was bad enough, but now he had to deal with this? Sleeping was starting to sound really nice right now.

_"Oh, I'm sorry. You're absolutely right, you're probably gonna die __before__ we even get to cross a street because you're too busy being a fucking MORON!"_

A few sly tears skated across Edgar's cheek, not because he was offended, but because he was so stressed out. He knew the danger he was obviously in, having just woken up after being unconscious for God knows how long, surrounded by questionable materials, but he just needed one moment to rest.

Ever place where the tears touched began to sting and scream, further reminding Edgar of his situation. He was quite clearly injured. Everywhere. Never a good thing when you might just have to make a hasty escape and, since he figured he was in his bathroom, it was more than likely that he'd run into whomever was in here with him before he got anywhere near his front door.

"_There you go. Back to you're good ol' self again, I see. Now get the hell up and open you're goddamn eyes!"_

Edgar felt a strange sense of pride from those words, empowering him to push himself up off of the floor, even though his hands were touching things (that made him squint his eyes closed even harder) that felt like giant, ripped apart slugs, and his muscles moaned with each bruised movement, and the occasional pain from each piercing gash he discovered tracing his torso.

The lightheadedness overcame him when he managed to get off of the ground, but eventually died off with each breath he took, shaky as they may have been, and opened his eyes. It didn't help much, but he could see some smudged colour and fuzzy shapes well enough to find the door and avoid looking at the mess on the floor, fearful of coming to a solid conclusion as to what lay below him (and what he had been laying _in_).

His footsteps were careful and silent, like a man sneaking inside someone else's home. Sometimes he could feel something pop beneath his feet, it's innards exploding all over his toes, and he had to hold his breath to keep from freaking out or looking down. The brown blob that the man assumed was his door came into close view, allowing him to gently rub down the wood (lol, "rub down the wood") to search for the doorknob.

Edgar's heart practically slammed against his sides when he heard a quiet pounding from outside and he stumbled forward in his fear, completely falling through the unlocked door. He tensed up as it flew open with an unholy squeak. He had forgotten about that.

"Hmm...? Edgar? Are you up yet?"


	12. Because I care about you

It had been a long night.

There were stars out too, but they were all hollow and glaring.

The house seemed quiet.

Edgar's apartment was on the third floor of the building, and Johnny had two heavy bags to carry in, filled with things he had forgotten that he even possessed.

Bag number one had some of his clothes and his thread and needle box, as well as an assortment of different fabrics and markers to make his apparel. Being so thin demanded that he sew his own wears, and nearly everything he owned had been adjusted or drawn on to suit his needs.

Bag number two -this bag was the important one, and also the heaviest.

While scrounging around his home, Johnny had taken the time to explore it's many levels, the darkness of the house was oddly unsettling this time around, and no longer welcomed him with the sanctity that it used to hold. The house was angry at him, and did not permit a single floorboard to be stepped on without emitting an awful squeak.

Strangely enough, even the structure and arrangement of rooms had lost some of their familiarity. The homicidal boy found himself looping around different rooms more than once, until he finally came across his room.

Not a bedroom. Johnny didn't have a bedroom. He didn't need one. This room was for his personal use, kept away from his victims and other possible intruders. Like the rest of the house, Johnny did not furnish this room, nor did he style or decorate any aspect of anything in the building -everything looked essentially the same, but his room seemed special. A lamp, an armchair, a desk, and a mini t.v, which he later stapled bunny ears onto, were the only items of significance, the rest was just broken and old.

There were lots of memories here. This room was like an iron safe for the time spent in this house, some of what Johnny could remember no longer seemed as humorous as they did a few days ago; in fact, they made him a little embarrassed and uncomfortable. Perhaps he was just maturing beyond his "killer" phase of life, Johnny pondered and nodded his head thoughtfully. Inside of himself, there was no longer an innate desire to kill or harm anyone. The corpses and human life that painted his home no longer pleased him and, in fact, made him cringe. It was strange to think that he had actually done all of this, especially since Edgar would be very upset about.

Hmm... Edgar. I wonder what he's up to right now?

Suddenly, Johnny no longer wanted to be in that room, or in his old home. Each blood stain on the wall, every body part and person that was pinned and bound in different rooms, and even Nailbunny reminded him of this - this which he did not want to be a part of, this which Edgar would detest and abhor, but he could feel it closing in on him, suffocating his being and coaxing him to stay, whispers of death chilling his skin in the breezes let in by the draft. The house was trying to suck him inside and the walls were bending to form a cage to keep him from leaving. This was his home, and it made his heartbeat race. The pulsating throbbing rang in his ears as if he were inside of a iron bell, making him unbearably nauseous. pushing him, begging him to leave and never come back, so he left the room and ran.

The hallways narrowed more and more as he ran through them, creeping up to his sides and almost touching his arms, the walls had already begun to meet at the top and it had become to crowded to see which way was which. Paintings and cracks on the plaster around him zoomed by. His heart thumped. Sweat dripped down in beads. He didn't know where to go. It was so quiet, so lonely. Left, right. Where were his voices?

His flesh burned and scraped against the sides of the walls, cold blood trickling down his arms, forcing him to slow down. He just needed to find the main entrance, but with every turn the boy made, it seemed as though the house expanded, dooming him to run forever. He ran up stairwells and into different rooms, each coated in someone's blood and a horror-shop of gore and torture items, their dripping ceilings whipping past his head before squeezing himself into the next hallway.

How long had he been running for? Was he even on the right floor?

Would he ever make it out?

For once, Johnny felt very afraid. It coursed through his body as his lungs gave way to fatigue and strain. It shook his knees and caused his hands to tremble. The more he panicked the faster the walls enveloped him and the house began to loudly heave and groan with the effort, practically laughing at its doomed servant until it crushed him into stillness. Nny struggled to break free from the building's grip, but to no avail. The pressure was too much, making him feel light headed, the world getting blurry and dark.

Why...

This wasn't supposed to happen.

Edgar...

Edgar was supposed to make everything better.

"...F...Fuck!" The wheezy curse was not enough to hold back the pain in Johnny's throat, and he tensed up as much as he could in attempts to reclaim his tears. He didn't want to die today.

"Well why not, my boy?" The voice was uninviting, but familiar, and calmed Johnny with his usual stoic demeanor. How strange that the messenger of death could be so welcomed at a time like this.

"Any other day would be fine for you to die, but not today? What's happened to you, Nny? You used to be soo good," devious mockery coating every syllable. The doughboy that Johnny had gotten to know particularly well, only using him for its own ends, finally appears in all the sadistic glory that the boy remembered; and yet, there was a hidden inclination to respond, possibly from years of obedience.

"'Why not today?' is a very excellent question," the boy huffed out, trying his hardest not to let the crushing pressure ruin the seriousness of his tone. He wouldn't let that thing know how hard this was for him, though he longed for some room to readjust position, or at least let the oxygen flow back to his head, for he was getting quite dizzy.

"D-Boy, you've known me for quite some time, and I, in turn, have come to realize that you are not me." The doughboy, somehow unfazed by the current wall structure, remained floating in silence.

"I have seen many places and people that have made me sick, that have made me angry and frustrated and lose hope for this world, and you have encouraged me, with great persistence, to end this miserable and violent life of mine." An eerie smile creeps over the plastic figurine's face.

"Yes, Yes! You should-"

"BUT!" Nny interrupted, "It would seem that an influence even greater than yours has occupied my mind, which may explain why I don't hear you very often nowadays."

"What are you saying?" The threatening undertone went unheeded, and Johnny continued, smirking at the opportunity to rant.

"All this time, I've been wondering why none of these things that I do ever causes me great happiness: all these things YOU and Mr. Eff make me do. I was miserable, because no amount of murder or Ice-Suckies could change the fact that there is something horrible disturbing me, and, even though I may not be able to over-come my vices, and I probably won't even overcome you or the others completely, I think I'll be able to move forward."

Blood rushes in to soothe the bruised and strained limbs from their bound state as the walls slowly release their prisoner, the fog from his head starting to clear with his vision. Breathing has never felt so good.

"You are this parasite, trying to take what isn't yours, trying to feed off of someone else: me! You are weak, and, without me, you could have never existed. I will not die for you, and I will not paint that wall!"

"YOU THINK THAT JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE IN LOVE YOU CAN JUST LEAVE!"

The hall opens up and become shorter with the ends begin to shooting towards the center, the exit quickly gets larger and freedom becomes clear.

"I don't know if I'm in love, D-Boy," Johnny laughs silently at his confession, "but I think I care about this man, and if his purpose is to make me happy, I don't want to take that away from him..."

A few steps forward, and the newly freed stands in the middle of the main entrance room, a giant staircase to his left with rooms on either side, and the front door to his right. A deep breath puffs his chest before slowly being pushed out. While taking this opportunity to stretch his arms, the boy notices two bags sitting at the bottom of the stairs.

The house, now more silent than ever, bellows out the echo of footsteps as Johnny approaches the items. His fingertips gently smooth over a small book on top of one of the bags.

My Diary...

He grabs the item with both hands, examining the worn edges and reflecting on all the time spent scribbling down various melodrama to appease his mind. There were no obscenely fond memories in here, yet he felt a very special connection with it, and was reluctant to leave it here.

I suppose I should bring it.

The book shot out of Johnny's arms and smacked against the floor. It blasted out a beam of darkness towards Nny, and sent a doughboy along with it. The boy was horrified as the face of D-Boy got larger and closer to his at an alarming speed, before going right through him. The feeling sent tremors of pain and disgust into Johnny's lithe form, causing him to curl over in pain, nearly falling over onto the floor.

"You may be able to leave this house, Johnny, but in the end I WILL get what I want!" D-Boy screamed in a ghostly manner from within Johnny.

"You will kill Edgar, and then you will no longer have reason to stay alive! AHAHAHAHAHAHAA!"

The noise faded away with the laughter, leaving Johnny frightened and ill, unable to stop himself from sobbing while he knelt on the floor.

The rain proved to be a huge nuisance when trying to get to Edgar's house. Not only did Johnny have to carry TWO bags of stuff out, but he had to do this while trying to push his legs through streets filled of water. The rain was coming down so fast that he briefly wondered if he would drown if he breathed too much. Unwilling to go through so much effort, Johnny opted for taking the bus.

It was difficult. The bus drone was smiley and waiting, and it was so cold. Everything was getting static-ey and loud, what was the kid looking at! What would the bus driver look like with his innards torn out of him?

"You could do it so easily too."

He shook the thoughts out of his head. There's no way he was going to break now.

Taking a seat... waiting, raining, waiting, goobey kids. They get off, new ones get on. Ugly, disgusting people!

I want to die.

The bus keeps rolling so fast, just like Nny's life. It's moving and it won't stop for him, not even for a rest, for a breath. Why is it so hard not to kill that old lady!

"As soon as you see Edgar, I'm going to go all out~" D-Boy chirped maliciously. He was looking forward to this far too much for Johnny's liking.

"Don't worry, I won't let that happen." A few passengers looked over at the boy with concern, but quickly diverted their attention elsewhere. They knew that there was something different about him.

"See how they turn away, boy?" The voice chuckled out, almost playfully.

"Even THEY know who you truly are! -And once I get out-"

"Get out?" Johnny inquired.

"Oh... Just remember to kill Edgar!" D-Boy spewed out in frustration, and began to recede in Nny's head to hide out.

The passengers all looked in opposite directions from the boy, some whispering to one another, failing miserable at discretion.

At the last stop, conveniently located just across from Edgar's building, Johnny stepped out from the warmth of the bus and was immediately drenched by the rain, again. He hauled the bags through the main doors and went to dial Edgar so he could get in, but stopped.

What..?

The keyboard was obviously damaged. Wires and chunks of plastic splayed away from the broken circuitry, most likely from a knife, Nny noted, and the more he thought about it, the less fascinated he was. This was strange, because why would this not be fascinating? Something very bizarre is right in front of him, yet Johnny isn't musing about whether or not Edgar may have done this, but is actually...

... Is Edgar okay!

Why? Why this would have anything to do with Edgar was beyond Johnny at this point, but he panicked and hyperventilated nonetheless, until he reasoned to himself that no one in their right minds would ever pick a fight with Edgar, and that everything was fine. No one wanted to kill Edgar.

Except for D-Boy...

The door was difficult to open, the mechanics inside gave a reluctant buzz, but gave way with enough force. Johnny couldn't help but notice the puddles of water on the floor as he walked towards the elevator, but locked his gaze onto the gold framing around the elevator buttons, trying to rid himself of his sickeningly paranoid thoughts.

Inside the elevator was nothing but mirrors and buttons. It was awkward, staring at himself all around. He was watching himself watching the glowing "3", watching himself watch himself from the corner of his eye. He began to fill dizzy.

The doors opened with a melodic ting, which seemed to make everything more frightening, for some reason.

Just look for room 313, room 313, room 313...

Johnny had started a light jog without realizing it, and sloshed water around from his shoes and bags with every step. The squelch of water was uncomfortable and the boy's lips had started to turn purple, but he was too focused to noticed.

308, 309, 310...

So close, his heart was pounding.

311...312...

313.

The door was unlocked.

Johnny slowly stepped inside and quietly shut and locked the door behind him. His eyes stung from being opened so wide. He felt his blood get cold, as if the rain had only just started to affect him.

The sitting room was a mess, and the contents of the fridge were tossed all over the kitchen floor, but all Nny could notice was that the sofa was carved up, and Edgar's flowers had smashed along with their vase.

His blood wasn't just cold now, it was ice.

He wanted to do something! Rip his hair, scream, stomp, throw a fit! How could someone do this to Edgar! Edgar didn't deserve this!

Goddamnit!

He was about to call out for Edgar, but then he caught sound of something, a fast tapping. It sounded almost like the rain, but not quite...

Johnny bolted for the bathroom and tried to open it, but it was locked.

Like hell you're gonna get Edgar.

Johnny pulled out a knife from one of his bags and slashed away at the lock until it relinquished with a small click. No time was wasted in pulling the door back and, at first, Johnny didn't see anything except for and empty shower, but then he looked down.

A knife. Edgar was bleeding. He was badly beaten.

The knife plummeted down and hit Edgar's shoulder. Nny froze as the man screamed out in pain.

Edgar.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I meant to get your heart!" The boy cackled out with glee. Johnny's vision was getting red from this fucker.

What did he do to deserve this?

What the FUCK DOES THAT KID THINK HE'S DOING!

The knife raised up a second time/

"Johnny, just let this happen. It's for the -"

FUCK YOU! YOU'RE ALWAYS TELLING ME WHAT TO DO, BUT NOW IS THE TIME TO SHUT THE FUCK UP! WE'RE KILLING THIS SON OF A BITCH, AND THEN YOU'RE GONNA GET THE FUCK OUT!

Before any rebuttal could be made, Johnny had his own knife ready and planted it deep into the boy's back with one brutal motion, dragging it through the flesh with intense hatred, causing blood to spew out onto his face. The blade ripped out of the assailant's body as it hit the floor, letting out a quiet "ugh".

Johnny stomped over to the front of his face to get a look at who the fuck was responsible for doing all this.

"...fffuck..." Blood and drool slurred out along with the curse and pooled around the young man's face, who was just starting to close his eyes.

How could that bastard think about resting now?

"You goddamn son of a bitch!" Johnny screeched out venomously, "Go fuck with Satan when you go to hell!" and with that, slammed his knife down directly into the other boy's skull, feeling it split through the bone and hit right into the brain. The body spasmed and twitched before the knife was viciously twisted and torn inside of its head, causing the movement to stop completely while sending bodily matter flying all over the room.

After taking a moment to breath, Johnny went through the medicine cabinet and pulled out some gauze to patch up the passed out Edgar, and then went to clean up the sitting room, feeling much better with the intruder done with, and the D-Boy out of his system. 

* * *

Hello all, I have returned, you see.  
School has decided to give me ONE DAY to not suffer,  
and I use it to update this story!

Isn't Nny a sweety? Cleaning up after Jimmy?  
I didn't write the part about Jimmy breaking everything  
'cause that happened while Edgar was in the shower, so he didn't hear it.

I would like to remind you to check out the poll I have on my profile,  
and if not, just tell me via comments:  
"Should Jimmy get his own story about him and his brother, should I just put random chapters in Trust, or just leave it?"  
Tell me cause I'd like to know~

And now, TO SLEEP!


	13. Chapter 12 and a half

Materialism is understandable, to some extent.

Wait, no.

_Edgar's_ material possessions were understandable, everyone else just wanted random shit to fill the void in their heads and make-believe that someone would give a shit about them afterwards -But the pictures, books, pens, and just about everything else in Edgar's house seemed to have some purpose being there, although, you couldn't really tell with it all being ripped up and vandalized. Delicate and mild mannered lifestyle items: completely broken and destroyed in a matter of minutes by a single, fucked up person. A person who simultaneously managed to break one of the most kind and painfully innocent people on the whole planet!

The cushion folded and wrinkled under Johnny's death-grip before it was sent flying towards the sofa in frustration. There was hardly a thud as it landed amongst the others, but the boy's fist against the floor was certainly audible.

A single,

fucked up person.

Despite the fact that nearly two hours had passed, Johnny hadn't actually done very much cleaning. He had started working on the couch, sewing together the rips in the material and re-stuffing some of the pillows, turning the entire piece into a frankenstein-esque sofa festered with stitch marks (which seemed like a complete improvement from his perspective), but the boy had become too engrossed in rummaging through Edgar's stuff to be bothered with any more chores. Like that shattered lamp over there!

What may seem like an ordinary destroyed piece of lighting equipment to the untrained eye, is in reality a secrete storage place for the average boring man! Behold, a faux-bottom that slides out, revealing a handy little place for one's precious treasures to be stored away!

The inside was dark and promising, but Johnny couldn't feel anything but wiring inside, disappointed that Edgar refused to use such a cool contraption. After swirling his hand around for another minute, he dejectedly began to slide his fingers out, that is, until they brushed against something cold and smooth. The item was clearly small and metallic, making a clinking sound when Johnny had forced against the side of the compartment, peaking his curiosity as he fumbled around excitedly to see what it could be.

He was not disappointed at all.

* * *

Bloop:  
Just want to let you all know I'm still alive,  
and also wanted to see if anyone still reads this mess XP

But yeahhh...  
things have been weird. Children dying and.. eh,  
whatnot.

So, I'm labeling this as a "half-chapter" cuz it's... lame .


	14. Open Up

What an pickley situation this turned out to be, but exciting nonetheless! Johnny was all too eager to do some more scrounging around for treasure, and an actual treasure chest at that as well, yet there was nothing left to scrounge through. Every corner of the living room and kitchen had been examined once he had lost interest in cleaning, even the cupboards had been thoroughly examined. Nothing but pots and pans and some food that had been tossed out of the fridge (which Johnny refused to touch. It was icky). Following the process of elimination, that left only one other place to look through: Edgar's bedroom.

Johnny had avoided it for as long as possible, mostly because he hadn't actually _been_ in Edgar's bedroom before, but also because bedrooms were private places where people did their weird private things, though, he doubted Edgar actually did anything too strange in there. The bedroom has the most significant aspects of the owner hidden within and Johnny wasn't sure if he wanted to invite himself into there just yet: into Edgar's place of comfort, where all of his person was strung up on the walls, where only the people he knew best were allowed, in a domain the provided him the most security. How much of one this one person was he willing to accept, going so far as to delve within their astral plane where they are most vulnerable, invading their most intimate space? If things make a turn for the worse, would he regret having let Edgar become so influential, and having let so much of the man into himself?

But on the other hand: he really wanted to see what this key would open up.

Johnny peeked into the bathroom door, careful not to let the door squeak too much, and gently shut it again once he confirmed that Edgar was still unconscious, cringing too much for his liking at the sight of the previous intruder's brain bits splayed about the floor. The body alone made Nny want to scream out in rage, and he was certainly in no mood for rage.

He walked past the bathroom and towards the end of the dark hallway where the door to Edgar's room lay. Johnny had grown to know a fearful place when he saw one, as he encountered many in his house, and the door to the other man's quarters emitting similar feelings as his own on the night Johnny left the horrid building he used to live in. It seemed to reject his very presence, yet pull him in all the same. It wanted him to intrude.

_But do I really want to? I mean..._

An awkwardness developed inside of Johnny as he tried to cope with the concept of thinking to himself; he was so used to projecting his thoughts out loud that it seemed wrong not to, yet at the same time, he felt uncomfortable doing so in someone else's home, only serving to stir together the two already-mixed up feelings.

_Or, I guess I'm living here too. Shouldn't feel uncomfortable speaking out in here._

But, reaching for the doorknob to his final destination, he had honestly never felt so uncomfortable in his life.

Deep breath now. He inhaled deeply until the air puffed up his chest, and decided to wait another few moments before going inside. His whole body rattled as he exhaled, trying to shake off his fear. _Fear of what exactly?_

_Fear of commitment? Fear of the unknown?_

The door clicked with a twist of the cold metal and opened in a slow and steady silence.

_What am I afraid of?_

The blackness of the room answers, _you're afraid of yourself._

It's just an ordinary looking room, hardly distinguishable from a regular room if it weren't for the bed: headboard to the right side of the wall, pressed against the upmost corner. Johnny slid inside quickly and closed the door with utmost care, not wanting to disturb the eerie silence.

Quite a bit of time passed before Johnny had actually moved away from the front of the door. The ticking of a clock had seemed so loud and oppressive the first ten minutes, but now it seemed no more significant than the sound of his own breath, simply blending into the background as he adjusted.

The whole room was an eggshell white, including the bed, which was meticulously made with layers upon layers of very fine and thin white sheets, like something you'd see in a dream. Moonlight piercing through the equally fine white curtains caressed the soft blankets and piles of decorative pillows in a way that seemed too surreal and high-end for such a simple person like Edgar. The simple bed was mysterious and beautiful enough to hold Johnny's attention for a few moments, but he soon got back to his task, feeling more uneasy than he did earlier.

He didn't belong there.

There was a finely polished wooden nightstand at the bedside, just big enough for a single drawer and storage space underneath.

_Oh my... seriously?_ Johnny chuckled at the sight of a fluffy white bear in the nightstand.

_Silly Edgar, you're not supposed to display bears._

However, the boy soon diverted his attention to the drawer above, noticing the detailed metal design that flourished its center and the tiny keyhole that poked into it.

He clutched hsi small silver key in anticipation. This is what he'd been waiting for: The chest to his lamp-key treasure.

Just to make sure, Johnny tugged at the handle, but the drawer refused to budge.

The key nearly shook with excitement and danced around the hole clumsily before making it inside, butterflies flying into the boy's fingers.

But...

_It..._ was sticking out slightly. Johnny was slowly becoming aware of the cold breeze coming from the window, wind howling through the curtains.

_Doesn't fit...?_

He forced the key in harder, trying to push it past the workings of the lock and shaking the whole drawer in frustration. The contents rattled around mockingly and Johnny practically lifted the whole thing up until he noticed that the white bear had fallen out, or, more precisely, what had fallen out along _with_ the bear.

Hardly visible on the ground was a tiny piece of paper folded in half. Nny released the stand and carefully picked the delicate little slip from the soft carpeting, gently unfolding it with his index finger and thumb. He was surprised to find yet another key within and a small note.

_"Only if you really need to._

_-E"_

Edgar's voiced practically narrated in Johnny's mind. The note smelled like flowers.

Johnny was intruding.

"Well..." Johnny whispered to himself, moving the new key inside of the lock. "I don't _need_ to, but-" _click!_ "I'd certainly really like to."

* * *

**Alright,**

Thanks to all of you who have continued to read so far!  
I'm sorry my style keeps changing,  
**but I'm learning, and tired...**

late Valentine's Day present, but this chapter is one big ol' metaphor!  
Cookies for every answer~  
Cuz I'm interested in how you guys interpret it.  



	15. The white room scandel

Why was is so much fun to intrude on the privacy of others? What was in the thrill of learning some tidbit of information about a person that you hadn't known before? It would seem to be far more interesting to learn what that person behaved like on a more intimate level; ripping their organs out, for example, but Johnny hadn't been especially excellent at learning about people in a good way. He had only ever been able to make note of how horrible they all seemed when they bullied him and when he was torturing them, making all those noises and being fussy. Perhaps his approach was just off, since Edgar seemed so very keen on learning about him (and sometimes he laughed at the people in the magazines he read), and this kind of curiosity seemed to make Edgar very happy, and if he wasn't unconscious and bleeding on his bathroom floor, Johnny was certain he'd be very happy to know that Johnny was trying out this "paying attention to people" thing that the man sometimes complained to him about.

At least, that's what Johnny mentally rehearsed to tell Edgar. He was really just snooping. He had snooped all through his house and now was snooping through his room. Snooping was a fun word to say. He laughed out with glee as he pulled the drawer out of it's compartment, but it got caught on something before he could even peek inside. He jiggled it around, trying to get it loose, before yanking it as hard as he could, ripping it right out of the nightstand and sending it flying behind him, ultimately colliding with the wall with a startling crack of wood.

Johnny scrambled over to the drawer, noticing a large crack had split into the corner, but was otherwise unharmed. He carefully picked it up, revealing a little white-velvet notebook that had fallen out of it. He took the two back over to the nightstand and slid the drawer back in before examining the book. The velvet was soft, and slightly worn, golden letters engraved on the front read "Diary." Johnny chuckled at the thought of someone like Edgar, of all people, having a diary, and tried to pry the covers open, nearly breaking the spine. He hadn't notice the lock that bound the book together.

He tried the key from the teddy bear, but it was too large to fit in (no matter how hard he tried to force it through). Remembering the key from Edgar's lamp, Johnny scrambled to get it out of his pocket and get it in, his hands shaking too much with excitement to open it right away. He supposed that maybe there _was_ some enjoyment to be had in discovering things about people that they didn't want discovered. Just like Edgar and his celebrity magazines, only Edgar wasn't a celebrity. He would make a boring celebrity, Johnny laughed to himself again.

_But he's handsome like one._

His fingers paused over the diary for a moment, but he quickly got back to the task at hand, opening the book somewhere in the middle. He was astonished to find that the paper was decorated with the swirls and gentle curls of the most elegant cursive writing the boy could ever recall seeing. There were even little charts and diagrams made in what appeared to be a meticulous and almost artistic way, like the utmost care and details were put into each letter and line, black ink gently staining the cotton-white pages of this little book, tuck away in a white locked cupboard in a pure white room, enchanted by moonlight. He was awestruck, at first by Edgar's skills, followed by the realization that maybe he thought of something rather nice just now, but then frowned slightly that his writing was so ugly by comparison.

"Dear diary," The page started. Johnny couldn't help but grin over how cheesy that was. _Adorable._ "Mr. Toffman forgot that I was in his class again today, but at least he remembered to mark my test this time. I got a decent grade, as usual, but it should be enough to get me my job. Sometimes it seems like everyone I meet forgets me as soon as the next day rolls around. Why can't anyone remember me? I even checked for family members, but there's nothing. I hardly exist in the world..."

Johnny nodded along, recalling that Edgar had told him something about this awhile ago, but he only now understood how much it must have upset him. He skipped the rest of the excerpt and examined the tiny t-chart that was so beautiful drawn at the bottom. It only had two columns, but occupied nearly half of the adjacent page. "Day" and "People who remembered my name."

It seemed as though only one or two people would remember Edgar in a given week, the words "just barely" were carefully written beside many of those days, and Johnny actually began to feel just a bit sorry for him.

The next few entries were coated in the same lovely writing, and quickly flipped through more pages of the book to examine the to see if it was just as fancy the whole way through, which it was. Like something out of a classy English-man's notebook. He managed to catch little glimpses of words from random pages while he set out in search of some pictures, which were at least more interesting than this:

"_honoured," "frost-bitten fingers," "pupil," "second school," "troubled," "parents."_

Johnny let the pages slip past his fingers a bit more carelessly now that it he was getting tired of staring at the words. After going through the book a few more times and not finding any pictures, he tossed it away and curled up to his knees against Edgar's bed.

_I didn't learn anything new about him at all._

What a dumb idea in the first place. What was he expecting anyway? Edgar was the same goody-goody that he had always known, but the elaborate key-hiding had made him think that the man must have had some kind of dark secrets and evils locked away, and honestly, Johnny would have felt much better in comparison if that were the case. Now it really felt like there was something wrong with him. It was probably too late to turn back.

He sighed and sank into the fluffy blankets that draped over the edge of the mattress. They were so soft and plush, like they were made of cloud babies and angel guts. He fell back a bit more, the crinkling sound of fabric momentarily pushed into his ears, but he liked how the sheets felt, softly holding his face.

Johnny began to think a bit more, he was getting used to it now and decided he liked that too.

He could understand now why Edgar enjoyed sleeping so much, he practically had God's bed! Was that why the room was so white? It was easy to forget about his religious habits, or worshippy things. It was upsetting, for some reason... Johnny wasn't sure why exactly, but maybe he needed to think about that more, although the fatigue he was falling into convinced him otherwise. The blankets warmed around his flushed cheeks while he enjoyed the rare serenity in the air, wanting it to last forever. He didn't need to think about that right now. Shit. He could actually sleep right now. Maybe Edgar wouldn't mind. He could just stay there, and Edgar could go on the couch to sleep instead, or maybe he would want his bed back, with the cozy covers that hugged his face and sank in with his body. The prickles from his beard would probably scratch a bit against his pillows as he got a bit more comfortable and slid in towards the centre. He would put his hands out and softly hold Johnny's face with his warm hands, not wanting to le-

Oh shit. He hadn't meant to say that.

"Fuck."

He hadn't meant to think that.

His head jerked away from the blankets and he quickly stood up, pacing around the room, tightly gripping his stomach from the unsettling feeling that was building inside. Perhaps he wasn't in control of his thoughts after all. He was so sure he had gotten rid of the dough-boys.

The sky became darker and the moon faded away behind a thick layer of cloud, allowing the darkness to swallow up the bedroom, and Johnny along with it. He didn't like it. It reminded him that this wasn't his room, the whiteness seemed more threatening now and all those icky feely things from when he first came in here went rocketing back into his gut. He really didn't want to be alone right now and he couldn't understand that either. There was too much to think about and too much he should be worried about doing and not doing and plus this whole "thinking for yourself" dealio is kind of hard too. Can you ever be certain that your actually thinking your own thoughts?

He tried hard to think again, start over from scratch from his last thought... conversation? Thought train? Thinking moment? What the fuck are they even called!?

_The bed is soft and nice and it's Edgar's bed._

It was so much harder to force this thing to happen. Last time the thought-words just flowed out like music, but now it sounded strange and clumsy, spewing out too quickly in his panic.

_The bed is soft and nice and it's Edgar's bed and that's what makes it nice._

No.

_The bed is soft and nice and it's Edgar's bed and maybe he'll let me use it tonight since I don't have one._

Better.

_And maybe he'll let me sleep with him and-_

His hands flew up to his mouth and covered it tightly.

_he'll softly hold my face and say the I'm special-_

Nononononono... He couldn't stop the words from coming out.

_And he'll say that he's so happy that I saved him and proud that I'm so good now._

He stomped on the ground to try and drown it out, but the words just kept on repeating and his mind was starting to feel like a broken record. He stomped louder and louder and tried to cover his mouth and pull his hair and anything to distract himself and think of something else.

Johnny was learning that you can't drown yourself out as easily as other people. At least with the dough-boys he could at least try to fight back or ignore them. How do you ignore yourself?

Johnny's legs were getting tired and he began stomping less vigorously, his pacing had slowed down to more of a melancholy movement and he came to the conclusion that these were indeed his own thoughts, still repeating over and over in his head. Is this the kind of crap that people have to deal with on a daily bases?

He was just about to sit down on the bed when his attention was pulled by a sudden squeak and slam from the hallway, followed by a quieter groan of a man, probably Edgar.

"Hmm? Edgar? Are you up yet?"

It had certainly taken four-eyes long enough to quit his lazing about, and just on time too: he finally got those damn thoughts to stop repeating. He was about to leave the room when he remembered that the diary and teddy bear were still on the floor. It was probably best to put them away before Edgar saw, and seeing as Johnny hadn't actually bothered to learn anything new or useful, his previously planned excuse probably wouldn't work quite as nicely. In fact, Edgar would just get mad and realize that he was snooping.

He could hear Edgar trying to push himself off the ground, giving his heart an unexpected lurch forward. He couldn't let Edgar see all of this evidence. Johnny crouched down and put the teddy bear back in the nightstand before reaching for the book. He was just about to throw it in the drawer when his eye caught the corner of something sticking out from one of the pages. There was some hesitation as to whether or not he had enough time to investigate before Edgar got back, but he opened the page promptly and gasped at what was inside.

It was the corner of a photograph, one that Johnny had somehow missed, of Edgar and some curly-haired blonde woman. The two clearly seemed happy and were both hugging on to each other in a friendly embrace, making Johnny feel suddenly uncomfortable. They were in front of a desk with a little golden name label with Edgar's name on it, the woman leaned onto Edgar and looked up adoringly at him. Her blonde curls covered Edgar's neck they were so close. Johnny swallowed hard and quickly slipped the picture into his pant pocket and shoved the book into the cupboard just as Edgar had come bursting in.

"Oh hey," Johnny said as nonchalantly as he could manage, leaning up against the nightstand.

"So yeah, I wasn't really doing anything." He pushed stood up, rocked back and forth on his heels and tried to casually walk towards Edgar, or more precisely, the door, but the man flinched as soon as he took a step, stopping him where he was.

"D-don't... Don't come near me!" Edgar blurted out, scared and squinty eyed without his glasses.

Johnny took a step back, clearly hurt. He didn't think that Edgar would be _this _upset by his snooping, but he supposed that asking permission was just something that Edgar would consider polite, and perhaps he was at fault for not doing so.

"I'm so- er. I was cleaning up a bit," he continued coyly, not completely willing to apologize since Edgar had unnerved him by yelling.

"but I got distracted." He noticed that Edgar had pushed himself against the wall opposite to him and was making his way towards his bed. He pointed harshly to the door with his left hand, keeping some distance between the two.

"Get out." Edgar demanded. The harshness in his tone made Johnny flinch. He wasn't used to being yelled at, but he turned to look down at his feet, upset that he must have done something to deserve it. Just ruining things agian.

"Get out before I call the police."

_The police?_

"Edgar what are you talking ab-"

"Do you really think I'd fall for the same act twice!?"

"What are you...?"

"I don't know how you know Johnny, and quite frankly, I don't care!" His hand kept pointing to the door in attempts to avoid conflict. He was angry, but scared enough the he was not willing to fight.

"Edgar, it's me." Johnny replied softly. The funny feeling in his stomach returned, but he ignored it, taking a few steps forward.

"It's me." He echoed.

Edgar was caught off guard. He looked at Johnny skeptically for a moment, but soon his face grew softer and his hands fell to his sides, only a trace of doubt in his expression. He believed people so easily, but it was a quality that Johnny found endearing.

"How do I know? I can't see," Edgar whispered quietly, afraid that he might just be wrong. Johnny slowly reached out to grab his hands, startled by how cold and shaky they were, put them to his face. T He stared at Edgar and savoured the moment, moonlight breaking through the cloud filled sky as if to accentuate the scene. He had never understood what there was that people found so alluring about the human body, but he began to notice it now in Edgar. He wasn't built like a tank, and he wasn't as skinny as himself, but there was something strangely _beautiful_ in the way he was, with just enough abdominal muscle peeking through his torso that it created a wonderful contrast of shadows in the night-time glow, the gentle curves of his lips, his long face and smooth chest, milky skin leading his eyes everywhere; there was something truly delightful in seeing Edgar this way, even in his current state: roughed up and bloody, his hair a tousled mess and his eyes wide and green without and glasses to cover his face.

His prickly beard.

"Johnny... it really is you." Edgar smiled and stroked Nny's face adoringly, tears starting to creep from his eyes, whether from relief or happiness, he couldn't tell. The boy nodded into his hands, nearly nuzzling them, and was only mildly aware of how strange this was for him, but that was something he would ponder later. Right now, he wanted to be here with the soft bed, Edgar's hands, the open wounds, the seductive moonlight; it was too much. He wanted more.

And that was it. Just like that, despite his new fondness for thinking, Johnny didn't think, he just _did_. He leaned forward and gently kissed Edgar's lips, slowly moving his hands up his bare chest and behind his neck. Edgar simply stood there, stunned. It wasn't until Johnny pulled his face to his again and kissed him, only more forcefully, that Edgar finally kissed back. Johnny gently bit down on his lip while he pulled the boy's body closer to his own, gently feeling his shoulder blades and back. Johnny pushed himself up against him a bit harder, their kissing becoming more ravaging and passionate while they tried to draw themselves as close as physically possible. The sound of pants and gasps for breath were the only noises in the room, and soon the rustling of Johnny's shirt when Edgar had lifted it off of the boy, constantly feeling up and down the curves of the bones of his body. Nny grabbed the man's face and pushed it closer to his while he slowly leaned back, eventually guiding the two onto the plush white blankets of Edgar's bed.

* * *

**Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry for that.  
****I had initially uploaded a quick preview for this one, but then fanfic was kind of a knob while I was editing... so yadada it's all better now.  
****So yeah,  
****Let me know what you guys think of this one, it's a little fluffier than usual ^_^"  
****but I hope that's alright.  
****Also, let me know if any of you still read this cuz,  
****I was gone for so long ;_; SORRY**


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